That's Why It's Called Happy Hour
A new day starts they enter the fray
Pushing, pulling get out of their way
Hurry, rush, hectic pace
There's no stopping this rat race
Packed like sardines inside still cans
Off to cubicles and offices bland
Cubes to the left, cubes to the right
Inside one big cube they hide
Bereft of excitement their mood subdued
Fingers tapping, keyboard clicking
To their computers all day they are glued
5 PM comes the stampede starts again
And coincidentally that's when happy hour begins
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Copyright © Edward Mccall | Year Posted 2017
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