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Andrew Jan 24
I’m starting employment
And ending enjoyment
To pay a boy’s rent
Despite annoyance

I’m a lowly novice
Taking the oath of office
With a loathing toxic
Making me noxious

My paperwork
Pays for dirt
Removing smirks
Where I lurk

Their affidavit
Clearly stated
I’d be slated
To be deflated
And degraded
While placated

It taunts me
With the daunting
And haunting
Task of bonding

Floor tiles
And files
Drain smiles
Until I’m defiled

In a complete trance
I stare at sterile plants
And dance a feral dance
With a domestication chance

The trite lights
Are quite bright
And smite kites
To fight flight

They know how to handle a vandal
Just make him wear sandals
To discourage scandals
And extinguish his candle

The timeless
Sign says
Clear your table before you leave
To keep the cafeteria clean
So garbage remains unseen
In this horribly sanitized dream

I’d like coffee
But that’s not me
I’ve become Ghandi
A passive zombie

Eventually I figure let
Me have a cigarette
Waiting in the bigger net
Until the trigger sets

They steal my soul
Once I’m told
I’ll get gold
If I fold

Stuck in the clutch
Of a financial crutch
Without any touch
It becomes too much

The walls are caving in
This place I’m slaving in
To avoid my lazy kin
Becoming a crazy djinn
Conjuring sin
So evil wins

I can’t pass this test
At my desk
When the best
Bet on themselves
Putting products on shelves
While I’m stuck in this cell
Of an office ****
Due dates;
A revolving strain on time,
A resulting
For proven effort;
Our productivity
Our professional fate?
We look inward,
And contemplate,
And find
Our update
Is late
A M Ryder Dec 2018
We aren't on the playground anymore
There are new rules
We have to be mature but
Mustn't lose the spirit of childlike wonder
What is love anyways?
Maybe it's supposed to break all the rules, life is short
When two people find each other
What should stand in their way?

Because life is hysterical
Because **** is other people
And I think we love who we love and
There just isn't a **** thing that can be done about it
Zywa Dec 2018
He is in the hallway. Shall I
touch him, let my fingers run

through his hair, play with his shirt
tickle his body, shall I

arouse him and give the finest?
Cheerfully I say good morning, walk on

close my door, my eyes, him
in my arms on the edge

of my bed, to feel
what I would do if he ever

should take the step to unfasten
hooks with me and
Collection “Webgarden”
Connor Nov 2018
The metro station caged the slumbering metropolis
From this dingy mid-March town fridged in January wind
A ******* clad explorer marches in mellow strides
All the way to you
To back the lover's whisper spoken by static selfies
With fleshy whiffs, a borrowed jacket and a gawky face
Blind to but maybe fiddly pepples on the ground.

Down at a backstreet diner, its locked out doorstep,
A hygge cover made for two,
Humming low is the city's nocturnal remains' dubstep
Coming from an illuminating exit,
Luring the busy hands and buckled excitement, whereto ----

Whereto the vacant main street glides them
With the at ease traffic,
Down loops of everextending branches
I followed you
To the roundabout between
two surrounding glassware towers
Where gleaming sparks ***** on each other's windows
Divining themselves by lighting up pavements, entrance signs
and glooming heavens.

Corridors, lawned with clutters from refurbishments,
Lead to glassrooms of suspended business meetings,
And that cozy cavern,
Where you flump into a swivel chair.
Your inhibited expression unwinds
As my curious caress explores
The damp torso slumping deeper into the pliable seat.
And a devoted twitch of ecstasy, blossom unexpectedly
On your face,
Which already shied itself away from its audience,
Doubtlessly, for way too many times ----
A candid sight I could only cache from you,
Because I intend to see it again, your effortless reaction.
The sarcoma-like lump left uncut at the bottom,
Wrinkled like wind waves in a Ukiyo-e drawing.
I scoop the saline ripple, so you can taste it beforehand.
Our bodies started gravitating
onto each other or all over the place.
And lips, they startlingly perched,
out of wills, like magnets
For the very first time.

I've been feeling patient.
And I love taking my time with you
Piyush Gahlot Nov 2018
Finally someone different,
someone beautiful focused and confident,
Has an elegance and a magical aura,
Saw her first passing by when I was reading quora.

Her face is a delicious treat,
Whenever I see her my heart skips a beat,
She looks pure, she looks innocent
kinda shy, her smile is my stimulant.
she loves writing, what a coincident,
Has a decent sense of fashion,
discovered writing blogs is her passion.

She smiles less often,
Looks pretty worried most of the time,
Maybe because it's a new place for her,
or maybe something else,
Yeah, She does speak less,
She seems like a mystery,
Wish we match a great chemistry.

I want to know her more,
I want her to know me as well,
I am interested I wanna tell,
For now, I just wish she is single as well.

On her, my <3  got stuck,
gonna give it a try, Wish me luck! ;)
Liking the new girl in the office.
Em MacKenzie Oct 2018
All work, no play and neon screens
menial tasks even coat my dreams.
Overboard in bored and a silent phone,
oh no, I think I’ve evolved to drone.

Punch in, punch out, this is the wrong route.
Punch in, punch out, a life of drought.
This technological terror
has caused life to flash in error.
For lady dollar; I can’t bear her,
as the riches are even rarer.

I’ve become a machine, to crush numbers
with no log off for needed slumbers.
Now my brain’s racing, a million miles per hour,
oh no, I think I’ve gained A.I’s power.

Punch in, punch out, this is the wrong route.
Punch in, punch out, now what life is about.
This technological terror
has caused life to flash in error.
No sudden movements; don’t want to scare her,
she’s updating with no carer.

Learning binary,
a breathing library,
processing slowly
but still a finery.

I forgot what my hands were for
they used to write all that I adore.
Now fingertips type, each key a shot,
oh no, I think I’ve grown into a robot.

Punch in, punch out, this is the wrong route.
Punch in, punch out, no one hears me shout.
This technological terror
has caused life to flash in error.
Pure absorption; a simple stare,
life’s equation could be fairer.

Learning binary,
a breathing library,
walking geometry
complete machinery.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
Squalid off-white cube
fluorescent buzzing hue
water stained tiles
tribulation from digital files

dilapidated symbiote
invisible hungry parasite
optimism capsized in the abyss
tedium tongue french kiss

five hours a month
forest bathing in the sun
a cure they say
nature is a gateway

shambling down trails
languid gait sails
fractal patterns surround
tweets in background

head starts to clear
wondrous frontier
five hours a month
soaking in the sun

not enough time
to melt away grime
five hours a week
leaves a happier physique

summer sea breeze
rolling over unease
basking in the heat
leaving is so so bittersweet

return to human farm
pray for fire alarm
nature is a gateway
natures my getaway
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