Table Scraps

Table scraps, that is what most of us live for. We sit there at the feet of our masters (bosses) and wait for them to throw us a nice piece of partly chewed steak fat that they don't want because their doctor told them they needed to start eating healthier. And when we chomp into that piece of fat we wag our tails like good dogs and sit backing waiting for more.

I am starting to think there is something wrong with me. I am smart enough to see the problem, but to dumb to do anything about it. I read books, listen to people and try and pick up all the worldly wisdom I can, just to have a chance and improving my life and achieving my dreams. But I feel all I do is chew on table scraps. Sometimes you get steak fat, sometimes you get the large green stalk of a half eaten piece of broccoli and neither are really that good.

Here is a song I am writing about it:

No more table scraps please,
I ain't no dog and don't have fleas,
excuse while I get off my aching knees,
thanks, but no thanks, I'll find another place to eat...