A cold morning, time for a hot shower,
my body begins to tingle, I feel the power.
Snug in my warm clothes, I feel the heat.
now, it’s about time for me, to hit the street.
A crowded sidewalk, the bustling crowds,
the sun begins to peak, around the clouds.
An old man nods his head, a teenager glares,
but the youngster should realize, nobody cares.
For I look for the positive, on a cold winter’s day,
I love my job but even more I enjoy the pay,
So, let me leave you with, a message for the morn,
thank God every morning, for the day you were born.
Poem by David Andre Davison