Poetry... or not

About a week ago I was in a rather goofy mood and was thinking back to a few days before when I had mentioned that I was thinking of writing a poem about my job. I'm sixteen and I work at McDonald's. Let me tell you, I hate it. So anyway, I wrote a poem about how I hate my job and the mindless imbeciles that I am forced to deal with. Most of it is focused from when I'm in the drive-thru window.

The second you arrive
I close my eyes and
take a breath
put on a smile
and give it my best.

Then you leave
and I'm relieved,
until you come again.

It's a nightmare,
the second I'm free
here you come again
and I hide the groan.

I never know what
mood you're in
it changes everytime.
Sometimes you make me want to cry,
rarely my smile is genuine.

But everyday,
five days a week,
I see your many faces
and say "Can I take your order?"
It's a nightmare,

Working here,
helping you
"Do you want fries with that?
How about a drink for a dollar?"
This place is a
nightmare.

Thank you,
have a great day,
Come again.
Please, don't.

And that is my poem "Drive- thru Window"