Purgatory

Stuck in purgatory behind a desk
Staring at this washed out screen
A keyboard jockey can’t be my best
Is this all that my life will mean

Tapping out such meaningless text
Like a modern zombie in a tie
Everyday I get even more vexed
If this is life then I want to die

The fluorescent light sallow my skin 
The screens I stare at deaden my eyes
Surely this kind of punishment is sin
This is cannot be the way of the wise

My spirit clamours so deep within
Trying to get out of this office hell
Its shouts become a wailing violin
For some creativity it doth yell

Where here is the beauty of life
No colours, no sounds and no smell
Being here is to my heart a knife
If feel like my soul is roasting hell
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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