The new-comer: the try-hard foreign guy

masks-plain paper mache

What on earth am I?
Do I have any labels? Any at all?

Will anyone give me a label, please? Anything.
Then I can stop being anonymous.
I was never anonymous before.
This has to be my lowest ebb.

Must be, I mean, how can it possibly get any worse?

What is worse than being anonymous, unknown,
uncared for and unappreciated?
Who knows I live and work?

The customers, that’s who.

I’ll focus on them: the customers.
My salvation. Here they come… smile and be kind.

Any cruelty to the customers, blame the management.  Not me.
Not my fault.  I’m just anon.



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