Human heating unit

I didn’t find a job after my degree,

In society’s eyes I had no right to be.

I decided I’d become an alcoholic hobo,

Stick to playing my old bourbon oboe,

As it was expected from an unemployed mind,

Expectation: not fun with people not kind.

I got brutalized by some police,

Left me in the snow, resting in peace.

Here’s the fun part, I melted all the snow,

Melted it enough till it needed a mow.

Someone with poor circulation came along,

Woke me up and inquired what was wrong.

After my story, she offered me a job,

A human heating unit, warmth with a throb.

All I had to do was keep radiating,

Close to people who were just there, waiting,

Waiting for sleep with cold hands and toes,

I was there to make sure that no one froze.

Under the blanket, emanating heat,

Whistling away, making ends meet.

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