A dad working as a man's slave can't take it any longer.Lashing out his anger at his employer n seeks his freedom and redemption.

I sit at my table

Shaking as it's merely stable

with my bare hands

and pieces of wooden planks,

I used the minute rest to make

Since it can't hold his steak,

a well-furnished,Italian,mahogany table

Expensive gathering from the label

is brought in for his utter comfort.

He sits as deaf as a doorpost

to the muttering next to his seat.

Enough is as good as a feast

I whisper in their ears

Trying not to break in tears.

They look up at their father

Single since the death of their mother

Beads of sweat stream down my cheek

Concerned faces insinuating am sick

With a sudden burst of rage,

I turn to him like a beast from a cage.

Dashing all the niceties on the floor

Took my kids and walked through the door

The door that leads to my kingdom

The door that leads to my freedom

I would rather sleep in a grave

than my kids watch me.......a man's slave.

They pick their rags and we start walking

Different company doors I go knocking.

Alas!I found a job at a nearby precinct

Am so glad that I have a father's instinct.

The End

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