Poetry

Last Minute Work (#720)

Always a last-minute thing,
Oh, what frustration it can bring,
Just when I thought all was completed,
Something new hit, leaving me unseated,
Right at workday’s last tick tock,
I get hit with this unbalancing shock,
Without warning, there’s something else to do,
And it requires me to work the weekend through,
So much for a day off from all the stress,
I was left to clean up someone’s mess,
Why was it me, left holding the ball?
Fairness doesn’t factor into it at all,
Oh, how this does so aggravate,
Why must I fix someone else’s mistake?
It’s my job, and I’ll do whatever it takes,
But is my sacrifice worth all the heartaches?

Any Thoughts?

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