Pointing out
the truth.
Preaching
the future.

It's all for naught.
As words spoken
remain unheard.

Ignored you start showing.
Giving all you have.

But again
all is for naught.
As results
remain unseen.

So you keep toiling
silently hidden
unknown unseen
til the end.

Some superiors know how to hold a grudge,
That only death could pry them away from it;
Some colleague are inexperience in every aspect
Of their work, but well verse in treachery and groveling;

Some customers know how to transfer their aggression
And run out of patience at the sight of frown;
So we overwork nonentity most remove our crown
And put a barrier against these office hurricane for protection;

We most tell ourselves little-lies everyday that we're strong,
For this little make belief is our safety at work;
Like we hope for heaven we hope today won't
be as bad as tomorrow and our joy to be long

You wake up
Do you feel jittery?
Panic runs through your nerves
Tired and restless
Heart pumping wildly
8 hours, 10 hours, 12 hours sleep
Still feeling choked by a headache
Numbness filled the back of your mind
Watery eyes from fatigue

Time for work

Getting called in
Do you feel the anxiousness?
The tension in the air
Sweaty palms and feet
As you drag yourself in

You're in
Do you feel calm?
Empty and a lil nervous
The thought of 'I dont give a ****'
You knew where this is going

He screamed
Do you feel upset and angry?
With the demeaning insults
Threats after threats
And you sat there silently
Allowing him to

You left
How do you feel?
Helpless
Agitated
Powerless
Breathe...

Your day begins
Do you feel better?
Work after work after work
Piling up like hills so high
Jittery feelings return

Home
Do you feel dead?
Exhausted and drowned with work
It does not stop here
Unfinished business to continue
Type away with blank stares

Crash.
Your day starts again.

Just a minute left before I should pinball out of my building doors
and speed over past the new high riser,
gust of wind pushing against my little body,
tiny amongst these buildings going up.
My eyes switch between the time and the streets,
My feet fall soft and I’m safe.
The trains not here yet and then it is,
and then I sit and I rip my book out of
my lunch bag, ticket tucked under my bookmark
In case the conductor don’t see me
I’ve been reading about the golden state killer.
Rye’s a five minute warning and then
I’m speeding out of another door down
the stairs past the elderly,
across one of the many ****** Port Chester
streets difficult to cross but I’m walking
my legs dart fast past the head shop and the bread shop
and my nose is filled with sweet and sour.
I walk faster- avoiding the CEO
he rides the same train and I don’t want to talk.
So I march forward and don’t look back.
I get closer and mentally flip off the line of five short men
catcalling me in Spanish, all the while peeking in to the brisa marina window
to see if there’s anything my herbivorous mouth could swallow,
but i don’t break my stride.
They’re practically a butcher anyway.
I climb the stairs to the entrance, stepping beyond the dead baby bird carcass
I was hoping some other animal would consume yesterday
and the avocado shell that would have been good to bury it with.
I try to shake the thought of impending doom as I swipe myself in
Still going as fast as i can so that I don’t have to hold the door open for the CEO
Call me petty, but I do enough of his bidding on a day to day
And I ascend to age 5 years for 10 hours.
And then I run home just to do it all over again the next morning.

It's 4:50pm.
The second hand ticks through the numbers.
Nobody stirs in the office.
Just heads behind computer screens.
I think about my daughter.
She must be starting to work up an appetite for dinner.
The manager sneaks out earlier than usual.
I think about my wife.
She's probably cooking up something delicious.
I stare at the screen. A new email.
The subject line becomes blurry as I stare back at the clock.
It's 4:51pm.