Workless (Shakespeare Edition)

"Did Shakespeare have a job? 
...are they still hiring?" 

-someone desperate

Experience : I once worked a solid hour trying to resize the date on a particular piece, and then I scrapped the whole piece and started all over.

Skills : Oh, my skills? Well, you see, I suppose...you could say I have a knack for knowing where the comma goes

Along the street where I take my noon stroll

Should my path intertwine with an old woman, manning a stall of fruit

She sits smack upon the ground

I reckon, in more ways than one

To behold her is unpleasant

To be her, all the more

Her feet are soiled

Her skin hardened by many days under the sun

If she did at some whimsical moment, choose a life for herself

I know, with strange certainty

It wasn't this one

And what of the young man, standing by the butcher block

Shoulders beset with gloom

Chopping and weighing meat? 

Had he sat in school one significant day

Sat up in his chair and exclaimed, 

There! That's where I'll end up

Callous, I am not 

It occurs to me there are ends to be met

And endless mouths to fed

I am petrified, you see

That my dreams will meet a swift and bitter end

The journey of success has quite a sinister feel

For I know not where I will go 

And fear I will soon exasperate what powers watch over me

Shall I surrender, finally

To their authority

And settle on a profession 

A respectable coffin

To lay my dreams in?