Some may be offended by this poem
But then again, I am blinkered, and don't have a clue.
Some appear happy but say the word “oh, oh”
Meaning they are wind up merchants, quick to disperse
Then again, the sound of their voices could be chapter and verse.
Some always smile and do not believe in the political chat
They are often friendly and productive
Not work shy to do tasks they need to do
They are often a humble and yet a forceful drive dude.
So I ignore the idiots
And smile at those less fickle
None of us are perfect and we need to reflect on that
It’s better than listening to that person who loves the sound of their own voice
I rather eat a succulent piece of food
At least i profess that isn’t at all rude.
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