Best Overworking Poems


Pity My City

Pity my city
I pity my city there is no dignity in this city
There is no justice no freedom
Street children in a locked hall, shocking
County council overworking
The city must be clean so some humans are garbage
Some are cabbage, the garbage pay the damage
No houses sleep on spillage
But there are human rights
There are human right activists
There is the department of justice
All filled with malice
Pockets practice
Gross malpractice
Injustice, silence
You are in court
Guilty of court contempt
Another charge
The bail or the sentence
I’m bailed out in silence
Next time just bring your presence
Retain your silence
I was told
You will be safe.

My phone is gone, my shirt is torn
No bus fare so I walk alone
I think a lot, go back home or not
I remember I am a poet
I write a poem, a paradox
Pain in the city
I pity my city there is no dignity in my city.

Never what I came for
Likewise not what I prepared for
To be robbed by those I voted for
I am not happy anymore
My city is no more
I don’t wish for more
I just want go
not the city I know.
not where I wanted to grow
cartels make us bow
Now, now, now, it is time.

Time to know I am grown
And carry always my identity card
The men in blue are out bad
And always never forget also to carry ‘kitambulisho ya polisi’
Hawa watu ni mabeast na mafisi, human hyenas
time to tie up my seat belt whenever in a matatu,
sina mia tano ya kulipa coti kila saa na sitaki kulala ndani siku tatu

two days I am locked up inside my own head
spinning spinning, my thoughts are dead
the life so far I have led
no step has been made
no journey finished
No house furnished
Time is running and broke is sickening
My heart is listening, my brain is calculating
I have to act quick, just do something
The weather so good for chilling, but bad for singles
Life is unfair
No dream has been real
No love to heal
No feel
No deal
Just the bill
More and more bills
The city is fattening
Wanjiku is sickening

From Nys to health to Tunnels
It is all on the channels
How they on the seat eat
Meat
The citizen kitty is gone
The city is torn
Get the president on the phone
Call the press, what must be done be done
Impunity will not rule this city
Dignity must be restored
This city no more a pity
Bring back the citizen kitty
Say no more
The city.
Categories: overworking, city, corruption, evil, humanity,
Form: Ballad

The Job (Slave Labor)

To be brutally honest it feels great to be employed
But it wears off quick and I start to feel annoyed
Manager abuses authority
Women work there as a majority
In fact it feels like a sorority
The cycles
The emotion
Cure the curse
Brew the potion
Can't a day at work be smooth as lotion
The guys would think it's great
No not at all
Workin with women make me exhausted to the point I just wanna fall
On the floor
Move no more
I want another job
I don't fit in this clothing store
Hours of moving boxes
Eyes red like foxes
Picking up hanger after hanger
Up up goes my anger
Fingers getting poked from sensoring clothes
I smell laziness under my nose
Back-and-forth I carry lay-a-ways
I shouldn't complain I get paid anyways
Watching the fitting room
Boring full of gloom
Vacuum the carpet last
Only an hour has pass
I can remember everything that just passed
I glare at the co-manager as I strode past
It's days I don't even get a break
I'm so mad my body is like a blender the way I shake
In a four hour shift how much did I make
Four multiplied by 8.25 an hour
I used to make more than that from mama when I cleaned the shower
This is the price I pay for an "honest hustle"
But the whole time, no girl moves a muscle
I haven't eaten in hours my stomach hurts as if I'm in labor
This job is killing me like slave labor
But it's minus the whips
This chump change will never get me the luxurious "whips"
This time the master is African American
Can she, yes she, make the girls work
Yes she can
But privately refuses
The overworking confuses
She's invading my work ethic
So intrusive
I can't get away from this slave ship
So not elusive
No benefits
No pay on holidays
I need a job but also my dignity
I'm leaving anyways
I've gained experience and it's plenty money out there
Never has so much sweat dripped from my hair
Never worked a morning
Man this job is boring
If I lay my head 
I swear I'm snoring
I'm glad to be in college
Gaining knowledge
When I get my own business I'll do people a favor
By ridding the world of slave labor
Categories: overworking, teen, workme, work, me,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Daylight Saving Time

Yesterday, playful children engaged with the outside    
Endlessly enjoying their midsummer day's ride    

Today, another car collision, stuck in traffic  
Overwhelm by the society’s demographics  

Tomorrow, weary and mangled from overworking  
Needing assistance my aching legs have stopped working  

Yesterday, lighthearted without any prejudices    
The video game remained my only nemesis       

Today, austerely fighting to pay all the mortgage bills    
Pyrrhic weight, the body’s mobilizing nonerrant hills   
   
Things were better yesterday   
The tears were shallow. All the pains went away  

Yesterday, jolly old Saint Nicholas was bona fide     
Grandma and grandpa embraced hands actively alive   

Today, a career, car, and house, thought I had it made   
Mother and father are descending into their grave    

Tomorrow, my tears will all disappear and turn to dust 
I’ll be receiving one final trip into the earth’s crust   

The past, things were better, dreams subsisted boundlessly  
My tears were shallow. All my pains went away    
My friends were present to wish me a happy birthday   
All alone everything shall decay. All alone everything fades away   
Things were better 



Updated - 5/14/2019
*Nonerrant- deviating from the regular or proper course; erring; straying
© G. Jay  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: overworking, change, depression, loneliness, time,
Form:

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


A Tear

Overworking instead of tear
Fighting instead of tear
Not talking instead of tear
A sleeping pill instead of tear
An alcohol instead of tear
Why do we avoid this honest tear? 
So far and so near
So pure and so dear
Categories: overworking, introspection,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sometimes More Is Less

Sometimes more is less – 
like, overworking a painting,
blurring the eye-feast with an
excess of dabs and strokes, a 
mix reminding me of too deeply 
breathed tokes; or a poem, with 
a vomit of words – nixing participation
for the reader, the mental pecks
he came for, like a bird at a 
mystical feeder, that odd-ball
supplier, limping away on one
good leg, a strange god in
unnatural, featherless attire, yet 
a bird in heart, but not quite the
airborne flier~he dreams...

I pause, at the lit-edge of clouds...
content to linger, and simply
wonder of the beaming linings,
careful not to invade; I stop, 
at the visual, velveteen texture
of roses, keeping my distance, 
inhaling the intoxicating wafts
while restraining my hand of
usual dissection – like the surging
of your love, freely given~allowing
me my private melt, as I, you, an
intimate journey into uncharted
bliss....
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: overworking, bird, inspiration, inspirational love,
Form: Free verse

Don'T Burn-Out

Tick-tock,
tick-tock,
Every wasted second,
A step down from the top.

Memorize every word,
Understand every line,
Solve every question,
Be productive all the time.

"I'm not prepared"
"I need to study more"
Sleep deprived and mentally exhausted,
Burning out,laying on the floor.

Stop overworking yourself please,
Nothing is worth more than you,
You'll give a hundred exams in your life,
Don't let the pressure overwhelm you.

Panic, anxiety,
They feed on your motivation,
Take a regular break,breathe 
And get rid of any frustration.

No denying that marks are essential,
And hardwork is key,
But in the rush of pleasing everyone around you,
You will never truly be stress-free.
Categories: overworking, 10th grade, anxiety, care,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Greater Than Sorcery

Disappointment and hurt serving as a huge barrier
subsequent sensitivity of the mind towards affection
makes the heart worrier,
converting a spot once habitable to a no go area;
overworking feelings and emotions without any wage.
The windows of tenderness’ stores, now partially damaged
just to maintain this new borrowed image.

Opening the doors is beyond the spell of any wizard
persistence on trying, attracts its own hazard
yet, falling carelessly from the wall feeling no pain like the lizard.
No matter how one resists, the heart still insists
though broken, but having greater space to accommodate more love
Categories: overworking, emotions, heartbreak, heartbroken, hurt,
Form: Romanticism

Premium Member Unnecessary Words

Help me! I am addicted to unnecessary words
In everyday speaking I am hopelessly loquacious
And worse, in my poetry, so much for the birds,
Help me! I am addicted to unnecessary words!

Too many adjectives and unnecessary adverbs
Like “very” and “really” adding nothing of merit
And thoughts burdened with repetitive phrases,
Too many adjectives and unnecessary adverbs!

I turned on grammar assistance only to discover
The program needs to work overtime to fix me,
Like “needs to work” instead of simply “works”
I turned on grammar assistance only to discover,

I do not write nearly so well as I thought I did
Employing lots of words to express my meaning,
Overworking words that appear over and over
I do not write nearly so well as I thought I did!

Written December 6, 2022
Categories: overworking, words, writing,
Form: Quatrain

Covid 19

From the land of the rising Sun to Big Apple. A micro agent infuses fear as Still waters run deep.

As the weather is changing and Cruise Ships remain offshore. The venom is very strong for the hearts to grow cold.

Do not spit in the wind or call a spade a big spoon. For the plague is very real and it burns like fire.

Locking down developed Nations. We are all at war. Age is not just a number as the calamity claims vulnerable at stake.

While WHO outlines guide line of conduct to salvation, Overworking medical teams struggle for a dawn of better days.
Categories: overworking, africa, art, city, environment,
Form: Free verse

The New Owls In Town

Late nights over early mornings.
We pride ourselves in earnings, 
from tirelessly overworking,
breaking ourselves entirely,
rewards keep us company,
as they set the bar higher,
for the next spread of sheets.
Like creatures of the night,
we pile up the work load,
once the sun sets for the moon,
as stars twinkle twinkle on cue. 
Time will tell a tale as expected,
maybe tomorrow too soon.
Categories: overworking, truth,
Form: Free verse

Poetry Factory

staring vacantly at  space,
caught up in a wild chase,
conjuring up vague images
for my blank, empty pages;

damn old fool out for a spin,
unconcerned with any gain,
fumbling yet, always aiming
for some hidden meaning;

sometimes mere inspiration
but more often perspiration,
even plain self-immolation,
this silly poetic pretension; 

tonight is a long, long night,
a tough and drawn out fight
with a tough, cruel adversary,
the masochist inside of me;

so why write, asks this voice,
and I reply, this is my choice,
a trail that I just have to follow
by rolling along with the flow;

wish I were a poetry factory
grinding on day after day,
not overworking this brain
dripping down the drain.
Categories: overworking, introspection, on writing and
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Sacrifice, freedom and justice

My mind has been spinning, since toxin contamination
I have been caught in a web of deception and corruption
Searching the landscape, for words to describe this nightmare
The toxins sickened my healthy dog and I like an evil plague
I lost my home where I had been for 10 years, with no help
Evidence didn't matter, speaking didn't matter...
The tester got threatened not to expose my state,
for being included in the Ohio Train Derailment disaster

I turn to writing to survive, as I have my whole life
as I am still very busy due to the toxic disruption
The loss, the trauma, the pain and all I experience
The memories of wildlife fleeing with eerie silence
The acid rain that turned rocks, leaves and plants black
The flourescent orange slime on my tree in the back yard
The trees that died immediately, with no leaves in summer

It was bareness that felt like another planet
I keep working to move forward and pick up the pieces of a broken life
One day at a time, I take action and proceed to succeed
I do more and more, sometimes overworking, just to stay focused
So that, I don't crumble apart, all the while feeling so fragile
I will make it because I am a survivor in this challenging life
My prayers are with everyone in the biggest chemical disaster in our country!

Justice is gone, empathy is gone in this, we are on our own
I have a new life now, determined to create safety, comfort and peace
I still admire the beauty left in this creation granted to us
All this will affect me for the rest of my life....
With memories of my dog Bella , coughing and suffering who died this month
It will haunt me from scenes and evidence that I have gathered
But, sometimes we are put in situations to bring about new, better things

This is why, no matter what the weather or circumstance,  we must keep going
I am grateful for what I still have and think about all the veterans, Memorial Day
Those who sacrificed for our country so we can have freedom!
Many things in life take sacrifice, even when it is very hard to do!
Love for our country and our fellow Americans will be the only thing,
that will restore freedom and justice now as it dissolves in the fog
Seek the light, keep your head up, be brave and you can be part of it!

Heidi Sands

5/26/24

Blessings!
Categories: overworking, america, angst, corruption, courage,
Form: Free verse

Bipolar 2

I'm secretly 
a genius, trouble 
is, I'm the only 
one who knows 
about it. 

I'm much too 
shy to show it, 
and I'm much 
too mad to keep 
it constant. 

I'm either busy 
laying in my bed, 
missing out. 

Or overworking 
myself to the point 
of exhaustion. 

There's no 
in-between. 

And that, 
my friends, 
is brilliant.
Categories: overworking, fun, funny, humor, humorous,
Form: Free verse

Bipolar 2

I'm secretly 
a genius, trouble 
is, I'm the only 
one who knows 
about it. 

I'm much too 
shy to show it, 
and I'm much 
too mad to keep 
it constant. 

I'm either busy 
laying in my bed, 
missing out. 

Or overworking 
myself to the point 
of exhaustion. 

There's no 
in-between. 

And that, 
my friends, 
is brilliant.
Categories: overworking, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
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