Mistress of the Obvious

Always in need of a little assistance
Whether it’s help understanding the GPS’s stern tone
Or just reading a simple map on MapQuest’s website
Loves to repeat microwaving instructions aloud at least three times
Before even putting any type of bag into the microwave
Wearing a neon red sign as a necklace that only they can’t see
The tail end of everyone’s cruel Ginsu jabs in the side
Like a stuck pig without the option of being dead beforehand
Feeling every sharp dig with a sheer mind-numbing intensity
Something not even two Excedrin can cure
Unaware of the glaringly bright “Exit” sign above the nearest door
Placed in the torture swivel chair that spins into workplace oblivion
Glued a plastic smile on to keep from showing any true emotion
Don’t want to show anger or any teeth in the direction of anyone
Would rather be a cuddly lamb than a hungry lion ready to pounce
Venting all dark frustrations on the closest couch cushion and stranger
Running for the door when the clock chimes five extra long times
Burning nothing but tire rubber and mowing down anyone crossing the street
Nothing personal to be had from this
Just someone who ignores the clear signs of impending trouble coming fast
Oh well, another disaster bites the dust.

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