THE WORKING DAY

Written by: Steven ormsby

Restless and consumed with dread I await the impending chimes.
Soulless and unrelenting they torture my weary senses.
Reluctant limbs melt away from the softness.
Contact with the harsh floor shocks me into motion.

Natures’ call is answered with rebellious eyes that defy the inevitable.
A whoosh of icy reality sends my breath hurtling towards the heavens.
Carefully pressed shirt and trousers donned, the imposing tie is tightened. 
The noose of formality and correctness takes its merciless hold.

Outside, the mischievous sun delights in my captivity.
In these claustrophobic office walls it finds a powerful ally to combat my sanity.
The knowing keys beat a mournful tune on my computer, as the solemn clock 
makes a funeral procession of the hours

The days end rides in like a triumphant warrior,
Releasing the shackles and oppression that have bound my spirit.
The welcoming bosom of my once estranged settee provides solace, though 
already swelling within, the realisation that tomorrow brings but more misery.