Uh, did somebody ask for more?

[Michael]

In the time I have to spare,

I crave homage and respect.

And because I love to dare

Get tricky things correct,

Because both well and sick

Need rapid transport once per while;

Because I get a kick

Reducing others’ bile;

Because in the odd hours

While normal folks are sleeping,

Instead of candy, flowers,

I offer antidotes to weeping.

And because I like the edge,

And being treated like a hero,

With or without a badge

The fee I charge is zero.

I worry, though! They say

I’m putting good folks out of work;

On call both night and day,

I’m acting like a jerk.

They say depressing salaries

Is what I’m doing best;

I’m robbing folks of calories

To indulge my social zest.

You think I ought to quit

Supplying goods for free?

Even when thanks come quite a bit

More than I’d hoped to see?

You think I’m stirring up bad will

Unless I charge some money?

You think I ought to send a bill

For making folks feel sunny?

Okay, I know: First do no harm,

Regardless of how good

Some find my work. My name as dirt?

No. I’ll do what I should.

From now on, no more freebies;

I take too many jabs;

I get the heebie-jeebies

Being numbered with the scabs.

You want my expertise and skill?

Like any good commodity,

Henceforth you’ll get with it a bill;

I’m through being an oddity.

Higher standards, solidarity,

Dignified and fair;

Instead of playing charity

Where giving isn’t care.

I’m done donating what should cost;

I’ll charge, and you’ll know I’m

Retrieving decency I lost

On inadvertent crime.

Pros in a field I joined for fun

Who have resented me

Will gladly learn I’m not the one

To work without a fee.

I trust all are relieved to know

I’m taking down my shingle;

I’ll no more blush from feeling low;

My face will cease to tingle.

I’m turning in my tools of trade.

…Well, there’s really only one,

And it’s not meant for first-aid,

But rather verse and pun.

That is, I’ll stop this selfish game

Of writing words for free;

I’ll stop the race for glory and fame

And start to charge a fee.

Auxiliary cop or emt,

Philanthro-firefighter?

I’ll no more donate lines to thee;

My heart’s already lighter!

A volly poet? Nevermore!

The pros have changed my mind,

If you want laughs, come to my store

And buy my verses rhymed.

[hammerpcp]

Okay sir :salute: Where is this store? ................... Boooo, down with volunteering.

[Michael]

Here's the deal: In case of acute dysrhythmia, dysrhymia, and/or morbidly excessive gravity, make a donation to EMT City earmarked "Emergency Poetry Treatment Fund." When a critical mass of income has accrued -- that is, in about 350 years -- I will split the take with the site, leaving a generous commission. All merchandise and service "as is."