Some Of Us Have Jobs

It's been four years since a payslip read my name,

Though I'm more tired than ever when the sunlight wanes.

12hr shifts everyday, no break.

The more I give, the less I take.

Even when I "clock-off" - I'm still on call.

Sometimes bedtime means nothing at all.

Into the night, my sleep gets robbed.

But it all means nothing cos

"Some of us have jobs!".

I live a lifetime of careers everyday,

Skipping between all the roles I play:

A chef to my unwilling guests,

A nutritionist on a hopeless quest.

A teacher; just without a school,

Trying to teach the golden rule.

A doctor diagnosing a scraped knee.

A Nurse administering kisses: three.

A negotiator quelling an unruly mob...

But it all means nothing 'cos

"Some of us have jobs!"

I am a seamstress sewing buttons and repairing clothes,

A policeman monitoring the to's and fro's.

When times are light I play the clown,

And then counsellor when times are down.

A mediator doing her best to keep sane,

While everyone else tries to lay the blame.

All the while we hear from certain knobs...

It all means nothing 'cos

"Some of us have jobs!"

If my building was a daycare I would be employed.

Not just seen as someone who leaves a void

In society from a career that I left stranded,

To then offer myself up empty handed.

I'll get no payrise when my glory's shown.

You'll see it when my kids are grown.

They'll turn and say to all those snobs...

"Parent-hood is the hardest job!"