VOLUN-TEARS

From dawn to dusk, I work for you.
(And sometimes nights and weekends too.)

Appreciation’s seldom shown,
But I plug on -- at times alone.

I take abuse I don’t deserve,
From those who want, but never serve.

They hurl their barbs and cast their blame;
Pouring fuel on every flame.

But, that’s the way it’s always been.
You take their worst, then nod and grin.

‘Cause even with your very best,
You’ve made some smile -- and lost the rest.

But, there’s no pleasing everyone,
And thankless jobs still must be done.

And though, at times, it seems unfair,
I’m in this spot because I care.

I choose to do the work I do
Not just for me, but for you, too.

And though you think you know me well,
I must confess, there’s more to tell.

I have a life that you don’t see;
A separate identity.

I have a home and family.
They bring me joy and comfort me.

And I find peace when I am there.
No microphones or spotlight’s glare

Distort the image that they see;
So, all that’s left -- is really me.

It’s not the “me” the public knows,
But just a man in simple clothes,

With normal wants and average needs --
Who, just like you, when injured, bleeds.
                                                            

                                                                        -- George M. Gingerelli
                                                                                                 © March 2005