I Live a Limbo At Work

I live in a limbo, wired trance every day, Hands up in the air at a chair. Expected to sit, silently screaming inert, Eyes closed to professional flare. My life is in limbo, in this office of joy, An odd circus of administration. With keys tapping a beautiful tap dancing ballet, With a dart boarded concentration. I should be at work, at the job I so love, At my slogan on the porcelain tea cup. And be a useful red sign, a flag on the road, Not chained inside of this lock up. The department said return, return to your work, Return and rock on with your drums. Twelve months later, I’m still here, warming my seat, Gaining a PhD in twiddling my thumbs.