Drop the mic

A Poem by Raylene

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I wake up my feet hit the floor.
Ready to take on the world.
Shore to shore.

I head for the shower.
Getting ready for my work hour.
Oh no I slept to late.
Grab my keys to drive down the street.

Ready to beat the clock.
No time to wast.
Can not be late.

I clock in just in time.
To see my managers look
On Her face.
Even though I am early.
I sit and wait as she talks.
Great she took so long.
There is a line.

I hurry and open up my line.
One by one saying hello and goodbye.
I watch the clock tic by waiting for my break.

Yet I realize I'm out of dimes.
Go to the front and plea.
Yet the store has to be cheap.
She only hands me enough for an hour.

As I cower as the crowd nears.
All I hear is loud beep of the scanner.
Driving me insane as I am ready to leave.

In through the door I see my savior.
Wearing red waving at me.
I smile with glee as I punch out.

I drive off ready to go home a rest.
To wake up tomorrow.
To do the same thing again.

I must make money though
To have gas to go to class in the fall.
Yet in four year my hard work will pay off.
I will be making bank every week.

The store is now just a starting place.
It may be slow.
The turtle taught us as kids
That slow and steady wins every race.