Flow with it
Nope this won’t flow,
This way or that,
Way.
I can’t work like this.
I just can’t.
Who can?
The boss is gone,
On a fishing trip,
And we’re left with,
His son.
Oh god!
Shot me now!
Blow my brains,
To pieces.
I will not work,
With a man like,
That who has a,
Five year old,
Brain.
But my jobs on,
The line.
Damn it.
Where the hell,
Are the papers?
What will come,
Of this?
Damn it!
Paper cut.
Band-aid,
Band-aid.
Oh here we go.
Now I got this,
Under control.
Oh man.
Here comes the boss’s,
Son.
Just keep your cool.
No bad thoughts,
And work.
If he keeps his hands,
To himself.
That pervert,
How many times do,
I have to hell him.
I don’t flow that,
Way.
When will he,
Take the hint!
Gross!
I can feel his hand,
On my ass.
Keep cool.
Don’t slap.
Just move out of,
Arms reach.
