Five days a week
Eight hours per day
what a stolen moment of nightmares
a mistake of a sort
my work is a jerk found at the grey dawn of each breaking day
Telephones chiming, fingers grazing the keyboard,
eyes blinking up and down on the machine
meetings, agreements, documents, files and a library of minutes
all staring and chasing after me
like a terror in the night
I’m terribly terrified
papers flying now and then on my 1inche desk
no space to keep a pen
too much loads of work for a tiny ant like me
now I am on par
Good afternoon Sir, think I need to file a report
Go ahead madam
Thank you for your audience sir, if you don’t mind sir,
I need you to arrest my job
Your what?
My job, my work, m-y o-f-f-i-c-e, Sir!
But how? Why?
My work has ravage my body
broken into my soul
abused my time
separated me from family and friends
distorted my social life
and denied me of any rest
Isn’t this too much of a crime?
Arrest my job or I will take over your office
I would love that, madam
No, no, I won’t file this report again
just tired of the ordinary, you know
Thanks anyway
Do have a nice day.
Today @ dVerse, we are been asked to write about our daily life.
Rytha Ephua 