Employment…
I hate my job, it drains my soul.
It could be worse;
I was on the dole.
Fortnightly degradation.
I arrange the veg,
It brings me no joy.
Lifeless potatoes gazing,
Judging from their mass grave.
The minutes pass like hours,
I spend them stacking fruit.
Truly the most fruitless,
of all fruitless tasks.
Relief washes over me;
Lunch break has arrived.
Not a moment too soon,
I am released from my duties.
The once endless minutes;
Now rush past like seconds.
My thirty-minute respite ends,
And the drudgery of work beckons.
The penetrating cold of industry,
bores its way into my depths.
Eternally festering within me,
no heat can soothe my woe.
Conversing with name-tagged friends;
it aids in breaking the lull.
But still this day never ends.
This is truly the epitome of dull.
My mind colludes with notions of mutiny.
There must be some way out.
My pointless role imprisons me.
Why must it be this way?
My final hours approach.
The shift will soon be at its end.
The footsteps of freedom near,
and my spirit is finally lifted.
Alas the day has drawn to a close.
I am no longer a monotony-withered prisoner,
clad in my bright green death shrouds.
Tomorrow, however, it all begins again.
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