PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The machine is set to auto,

You can hear it's soft drone,

I get up when it is finished,

And then sit here all alone.



All parts have to be measured,

And they have to be with in tolorence,

So I take them to the insector,

And some days he shows indifference.



To find a part bad I sure don't want,

It is really a very simple thing,

But if they find one and try to fault me,

Oh, what a song i will sing.



My machine runs on a program,

I sit here bored day after day,

I'd rather do something that moves me,

But that is not what they want me to say.



It is hot as hell in here,

And the water is really no help,

The machine is now making a funny noise,

I think that it's about to melt.



I am waiting for that bell to sound,

And it can not come too soon,

I come in at 5 in the morning,

And don't leave until later afternoon.



Yippie the bell is now ringing,

And there is a great rush to the clock,

Just like sheep to the slaughter,

And i am just one of the flock.