Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Punch In




Up at first light.

No time to breathe.

No time to think.

I’ve turned into a machine.


I do not laugh.

I do not blink.

Motivation is low

Morale is even worse.

The only thing that keeps me going is the thought of my family not having to pay for my hearse

At this point I’m not living

I’m merly existing.

I am free in essence yet my mind feels imprisoned.

What is my purpose?

Do I even have a mission?

I once had goals.

Now all I want is a check

My coworkers don’t befriend me.

They view me a threat.

I’m counting the minutes down until my next break.

The boss keeps drilling for a nerve

Yet I do not break.

I’m tired of being just another face.

I want to win.

Until I figure out my next move.

I’ll just...

Punch in.


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Poetry with a passion. Poetry for all occasions.tm copyright 5/29/12 HLH