Singing For My Supper

Singing For My Supper short poem

Photo by hqhuyanh


“Come on, you know you want to give us another song,”
My God, if you knew how much those words were wrong.
“You don’t have a real job, you only have to sing”
I’ll tell that to the tax man when he’s taking everything.
“You get paid all that when you sing for just an hour?”
You don’t see how much of my day this job devours.
“Wow…this hotel…and you get to stay for free??”
It’s just another 4 walls staring back at me.
“You meet so many people, you must have lots of friends”
Mostly when the show is done is where our friendship ends.
“You get to work abroad, a permanent holiday.”
I spend my life in airports and my flight’s always delayed.
“What a great social life, a party all night long.”
My “party” is over the moment you are gone.
“I hate to ask but you could do this show for free”
If your boss asked you to work like that, would you agree??”
“Don’t worry, it’s always a quiet and early night”
Singing my last song and yet no “compere” is in sight.
“You’re living the dream, you sing across the nation”
I hereby declare I’m handing in my resignation!!

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