Feeding the Wrong Wolf

Late for work again, surprise, and still ten more miles to the mall,
Stupid dog wouldn't be a smear, if it hadn't chased that ball.

Hold your horses, lady. "Here you go." (Good god, I hate them all.)
And then I have the kid all night, while she's out with friends; such gall.

That infernal crying. Why won't it stop with that wretched squall?
QUIET, damn you, quiet NOW--or I will put you through the wall!

Prison guards and their arrogant stares, ignore me in the hall...
Just like my family, selfish jerks, who won't even take my call.