Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
POW
The rapid fire of a printer,
Can rip a soul to shreds,
At 9:00AM some think it’s ten,
While others just forget,
One by one we hold our ground,
With nowhere to retreat,
Our fingers march in unison,
To the sound of the same beat,

Poor young Bobby's in the corner,
Still trembling in his boots,
This is no place for tender hearts,
For that is what we shoot,
12:00PM - Swallow regret,
With ramen in a bowl,
A busy stomach helps to keep,
The mind off starving souls,

Fly back now birdie, it's 12:30,
There's been a breach of internet,
We all break rank and start to yell,
"Run for your cigarettes!"
Let's pull ourselves together now!
There's glory to be had,
They say our names will live forever,
When sales aren’t too bad,

4:00PM - It’s time again,
To reassess our plan,
All team leaders to the front,
In chains of old command,
Let’s push a little further now,
Eyes on the prize of screens,
We'll break our backs, our necks, and wrists,
But we will never break routine!

6:00PM - We did it men!
Victory is here,
Now how about we celebrate?
With laughs and ice cold beer,
But wait a second, look out there!
The enemy’s not through,
I know they’re all too young to die,
But killing children is what we do,

Another round. What say you, men?
Let’s not forget our cause,
We've found so many bodies here,
Yet all the minds are lost,

Now brace yourselves for madness,
Thoughts of discharge from your desk,
For delusion earns no payment here,
And hopes are kept in check,
And should you ever dare to wander,
Then you too shall go berserk,
With visions of a POW,
A Prisoner Of Work.
Allen James
Written by
Allen James  29/M/Brooklyn
(29/M/Brooklyn)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems