Employment: End Game
I. Hate. My. Job
With a fiery passion of a thousand suns.
They can’t pay me enough
To deal With these
Who have the audacity to have an attitude
because their not a morning person.
But still they have a stamp
From a nightclub
Fresh on their hand.
I couldn’t have more fucks to give.
I just make the coffee.
The power to switch night into day
Is out of my hands.
Although, with their coffee
I’m Thanos; one snap
And every little order they made
Can turn to dust.
Along with my job
That I hate...
So I just stand behind the counter
With a big smile
“Would that complete your order?”
Just Another Millennial