Yearly Review
“I don’t get it, Mac,” says my shift supervisor.
“You got great numbers,
But you obviously hate
being here. What gives?”
“Well, I just can’t stand sitting still,” I say.
“You put me on a road,
I’d probably run down it.
Put me in a truck
And I’d drive it across the country.
Put boxing gloves on my hands
And I’d wind up punching people.
It’s just a matter of putting me in front a’
somethin’ that needs some doin’ done to it.”
Give me a pen and I’ll write a love poem.
Shoot me a pretty smile and I’ll probably smile back.
Put me on my deathbed and I’d probably keel over and die.
But, dang it all!
if you show me the room where that bed is at, I’d surely ask for a few more minutes.
You see, it don’t matter how rough things get, there’s just a helluva lot of pretty smiles in the world. And they each and every one of ‘em give a fella a whole mess a reasons worth being restless for.
Well then, I believe this poem is long enough,
and I got me a lotta doin’ to get done.
