Why I Work

I find that working is the only thing I have left
I know this now 
Because of the days off
The days were I find out
That I have truly nothing
Just my mind with restless thoughts
Trapped in a small room

I can keep the pain at bay
With some music I can play
But no one can hear my voice 
Nor my melody

I have money to spend 
But nothing to buy
Everything is of little value
And sadly 
My happiness can't be bought

I live in a house with five others
Yet they are nothing 
But shadows of the real men
I live with them
Yet I live alone

When I am at work
I can feel alive
I am someone in the eyes of a few
I am needed by strangers and friends
I work long hours not for money
But so I can be alive
So I can escape from this lonely limbo
Because the stress of work
Is easier to take
Than the feeling of living in pain
As nothing

I hold on to my job so much 
I never want to leave
And in the midnight hour 
When I must
I begin my drive home
The pain sets back in
And I start to cry
Because once again 
I am nobody and I am alone
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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