Once upon a dung heap, growing
Daily as my boss kept throwing
Workers underneath the bus,
The word came: My career was done.
Soon he called me to a meeting
Where there was no use in pleading;
Even if I’d made a fuss
The odds I’d win were next to none.
Soon my job was jettisoned.
Though my resume looked pretty
And at interviews I’m witty,
Economics ruled the day;
An opening I could not find.
In my field, no help was needed.
Painfully, I soon conceded
I should find another way
To fatten up my bottom line
Before my payments fell behind.
In the want ads I discovered
A position for horse lovers.
Pail and shovel I would wield —
At least the job would be secure.
Like my former daily grind,
I still begin each day behind!
I’ve learned, no matter what your field,
Our force of workers would be fewer
If most fields weren’t filled with manure.