Working as an economical, slave-driven cubicle rat does get very boring. So sometimes I like to get paid for doing what I love, instead.
Here’s a little poem I wrote in my last hour at work, in an attempt to pass time (an approach to life I don’t like to adopt, live in the moment and all that… but work really does suck):
Dull office lights flicker
As Autumn leaves play outside
No concept of time here makes you bitter
Longing for freedom, but business cannot abide.
Trying to pass time.
There’s ‘work’ to be done
But I’d rather flex the rhymes
Enslaved by the economy
Opting in of our own free will
Did we really choose this? Somehow, abominably.
But we continue to obey, our voice boxes remain still.
These rhymes are failing,
As is my patience in here.
Am I still in this job
Through want, need or fear?
I think I know the answer.
But it’s difficult to face.
The entire human race.
So there you go. I haven’t written a poem since I was a teenager. But I like to get creative in stressful environments.
Namaste, you beautiful people. And don’t let the system grind you down- we’re all in it together, as One.