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Posted By: Piper Aug 15, 2003 - 08:14 pm

No rest
From morn to sunset
No blood, only sweat
Skin fair, to burnished tan
No mind
Only programming
No will, only for the day to end.
Somebody told me it was not right;
I told my little self it was perfectly fine.
Toil for wages,
Which will feed 'em for ages.
What's so wrong?
I'm makin' a living.
No needin' play,
Ain't needin' fun,
No needin' schooling.
Poor little me
Havin' to s'port my fam'ly.
Still...
It's perfectly rightly all right.

Posted By: Ding_man Aug 16, 2003 - 08:28 am

I like it.