The cubicle

Confined within these walls my being,

It measures two by two.

There are six walls to this box,

My thoughts limited,

My own voice echoing back at me,

As it bounces of the walls.

My every breath dictated;

Paled by the lighting,

I feel as weak as I look.

Gasping my breaths being cut short,

My dreams trampled, erased from my mind,

Till I am there’s.

Who am I?

You know who I am-

My name’s on the cubicle.

Author's Note

Written back in 04. Inspired by a job I hated. Basically that feeling when you feel your job has sucked your soul out because you're so miserable its all lost meaning.