Just the Daily Grind
A chill wind stung my cheeks
The sky was sullen gray,
I pulled my collar to my chin
And made my weary way.
Nothing too exciting then,
Just the daily grind.
Eight long hours of tedium
To stultify the mind.
Push a button, pack a box
There's targets to be hit,
Team leaders, motivators,
It's all a load of s##t.
Clocking in, clocking out
Until the weekend's here,
Then I'm off down to the pub,
To meet my good friend, beer.
Entry for
CONTEST NO 495,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,
UP TO A MAX OF 20 LINES Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
17/9/18. Placed 1st.
Copyright © Gary Smith | Year Posted 2018
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