'Each morning is a blessing' they say,
and I can’t seem to get by on two weeks of pay,
but I keep on like nothing has changed.
Morning comes and I make you a plate.
but you throw them away.
I ask, then plead and beg you stay,
but you say,
you’ve got better things to do,
other girls to screw.
So I wait.
The hours and minutes and seconds of a day,
I waste on you.
I eat an apple a day,
I am slave to get payed,
and I’m still stuck on you.
Like the common cold or a god awful flu,
the medicine only provokes you..
'Each day is a blessing' you say,
and you pack your bags to run away,
and finally state,
'you're gonna thank me some day'.
I made a plate,
I ate them alone today.