Existence Without Cause
Strung along, I am a fool
Always working for others
Once branded a handy tool
Foot on my neck
Boot lodged for good
I barter and sweat
A soul without identity
I work and work
Free food and amenities
However no ambition for more
The days stretch together
A day's work leaves me sore
Trapped by a leash hand-sewn
Never in search for better
I could have done well all alone
A life of nothing, wasted among time
Perhaps I could've done more
If you ask, I'm doing just fine
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