a hard time waking

the trees reach up to claw the purple sky
morning arrives with all its normal flair
the rumble of far traffic and the blare
of railway horns as the trains rumble by
i struggle to think clearly and ask why
i've got to shift the burdens that i bear
when no one seems particularly to care
whether i smile or laugh or even cry
there's nothing that we do that matters
to those we serve who never see the task
as other than a chafing irritation
swift they may be with the lie that flatters
but it is easy to penetrate the mask
and laugh at what they take for aggravation