I’m not afraid to tell you my life consists of
waking up, putting on makeup, getting dressed,
drinking coffee, going into the office, eating a granola bar,
drinking coffee, logging into my computer, listening to my voicemail,
checking my email, wishing I had a real breakfast.
I’m not afraid to tell you my days consist of
checking my calendar and scheduling appointments,
rescheduling appointments, going to meetings, and
drinking coffee. Going home, staring into the refrigerator,
wishing I could make dinner, and cracking a beer.
I used to tell myself that I should be saying something else,
that existence was more than conference calls
and driving around and collecting a paycheck,
that all of this was meaningless and I could change it
to make it something more—to save the world.
I used to tell myself that I should be something else,
that I can make people happy and help them make
other people happy and help them make—the cycle
is endless when there is happiness—the cycle is endless
when there is sadness—when there is repression.
My voice now stops myself from becoming the sad one,
the mad one, the active one, the one with ambition,
because survival comes first and the ones nearest come first,
and my drive to drive to work and drive to not be last,
and my drive to drive spins me into oblivion.
My voice now stops myself from being driven.
felt like this spinning in the path of survival
and it made me dizzy
wanting to change the world
I pass out free smiles
reads like a spiral landing
a soft landing
enjoyed the read
The following users say thank you to c4a1g for this useful post:tlhopkinson
Holy shit @tlhopkinson you've taken a page from my life and penned it perfectly! I've just crept out of oblivion and am finding out how I really want to live...................... I love this poem for it's statement. One that everyone etching out a living in corporate structure can feel I am sure........Glad you have taken time to write...............makes morning coffee much more pleasant that the tripe in the newspaper.......
The following users say thank you to Killerelite for this useful post:tlhopkinson
If it's a grind
I stop it.
If I'm behind
If it's unbearable
I unbear it.
Fly by night
has been my middle name.
That OK too.
When I die
people will say
"What the hell was that all about"
And that's too bad,
They never got the joke.
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