Original poetry: A call for freedom
How did it come to this,
Every little thing we do is wrong.
Always trying to please but,
Losing all hope of ever gaining.
The respect due to us from our
Peers and so called bosses.
Help we scream ,
As we drown in the minute of
Needless rules and,
Discouraging commands barked at us from
Self satisfied "little Hitlers."
'Arses' we call them behind their
Fat ... wads of notes and tests,
Evaluating everything we do.
They will never win our souls that
Yearn for FREEDOM.