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.