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