Work

Work Feeds me

 (in that it pays so that I may eat)

Work eats me

 (in that it is slowly consuming my soul).

 

Work has taken my heart,

in exchange for the pay

that leads to a life

which requires work.

 

I am dead inside

while I stagger through the day.

I am dying inside

while I stagger through life.

 

What are you looking at?

I see it in your eyes too;

fated, flittering glimpses

of the world...

 

...slipping from your hands.

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Indeed my dear fellow, work is the b*****d that clings to our very being, alas it's needed, perfect words, well done.

[Blotter]

Thank you.