Get Your Premium Membership

Paycheck

stationed at kissing desks I feel the implode of anxiety within this sweathouse of labor and woe telephones chime with the sweet rhythm of security being enslaved can be a joy all its own ungrateful maybe but a yet to be defined pay scale can mean so much in a bunker filled with high school grads through the fog and thunder of these cackling underachievers who slam file drawers in disgust a voice sweet and low says onto me hey you wanna' f---

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs