Best Rat Race Poems


Premium Member The Rat Race

Angst
        Pressure
     Tension Builds
  Nerves Tautly Wound
Stomach's Knot Tightens
   Imminent Deadline
     Boss's Threats
        Pressure
          Angst

Rat Race

You follow the rat races,
Climbing ladders that never end,
Surrounded by faces,
But not one you could call friend,

You stare hungrily at your reflection, 
Picking apart your every inch,
Believing beauty leads to connection,
But would it save you in a pinch? 

You spend like there's no tomorrow,
Yet for the poor you've naught to spare,
But if it became your turn to borrow,
Would it shock you when none will care,

You trust blindly in your societies,
That if you do it all you will win,
But you end up drowning in anxieties,
From the emptiness you feel within.

Premium Member Rat Race

How long can this world go on...
in the condition it's presently in?
I would say...not for long,
with such ignorance and evil sin,

Most people today don't care,
except what benefits them the most,
the whole world's an evil affair,
reaching from coast to coast,

And what can be done to change...
this perilous unpredictable rat race?
It's not humanly possible to rearrange...
this global situation we face.


Premium Member Rat Race

O squalling baby fat and red,
Laying on your nursery bed,
Clamber down onto the floor,
Crawl or toddle out the door.
Go to school. Graduate.
Take another for your mate.
Get a job and buy a home,
Raise a family of your own.
Save your money to retire,
Watch your grandkids and admire.
Now you're old and life is done,
Did you have a little fun?
O squalling baby fat and red,
You've just been born, and now... 
You're dead.

The Rat Race

We're furry and coloured grey, brown, or black
Be-whiskered and sleek and reeking of fat
We'll squeeze through a hole, a gap, or a crack
For rotting flesh or dry bones to gnaw at

Four-legged dealers of lingering death
Malodorous creatures crawling with fleas
Exhaling our pungent foul-smelling breath
Urine and droppings on foodstuffs we squeeze

Our bellies swollen feasting in famine
Scrape on the ground as we scurry in swarms
Our carte du jour is often Scotch salmon
But our tastes transcend conventional norms

Some hang up meat to improve the flavour
We like ours scabrous and oozing with pus
Seasoned with still soft faeces to savour
But with or without we don't make a fuss

Our long yellow teeth are honed to the point
Where nothing's too hard for us to devour
Bone marrow, muscle, fat, gristle, or joint
We’ll crunch them with relish in half an hour

You clearly love us – we’re treated like kings
The streets are knee-deep in tit-bits half-chewed
Hot dogs, hamburgers and delicious things
Like deep fried chicken or vomit you've spewed

We're stealthy and brave there’s naught we don’t dare
To avoid rat-catchers putting us down
But once in Hamelin pipes played a strange air
That drew us deep in the river to drown

Next time you hear a scuffle or squeaking
In a cavity wall or from the floor
It might be us foraging and seeking
To build a little nest and breed some more…

Rat Race

It’s called a rat race,
Though humans participate!
Very strange, isn’t it?

—	Ram, R. V.
© Ram R. V.  Create an image from this poem.


Rat Race-Work In Progress

Parents control what their kids are taught
It's not a matter of them wanting to or not
Go to school and get a job
That's how people pay bills on these blocks

Get married and have a kid
That's what everyone I knew did
While working full time
Stressing and counting every dime

Vacations on credit cards
Outfits for sports and leotards
Payments for the SUV or Chevy Malibu
Could live in a smaller house
Status would be demoted it you moved

Taco Tuesdays cause Mondays are crazy
Wed thru Fridays insane so weekends are lazy
Exercise? When I have the chance
I'll want to when I can't fit these pants
Why am I overweight and tired?
Cause I'm working overtime so I don't get fired
Cycle goes round and round
Not forever though,
In 30 years I'll retire.....? 
This is a work in progress.
© Lynn Dolly  Create an image from this poem.

The Ranch Rat Race

When that alarm clock goes off 'fore dawn's crack
And you pull your achin' bones from the sack--
Then you start havin' you some real doubt,
If this way of livin's what life's about.

So you eat cold bread and drink lukewarm joe--
Look out the window at three feet of snow.
Then the wife says to tend to the new calf,
As you pull on holey boots and just laugh.

Horses need tendin'; cows don't milk themself--
I need a good clone or some magic elf.
The wife says somethin's suckin' eggs agin
And there's a skunk what means to be our friend.

Then next day comes too soon and it's the same--
Your bare feet hits cold floor and leaves you lame!
There's bills to pay and more chores yet to do;
It just seems like the work is never through.

Though this race ain't for rats, it does seem hard;
But workin' the city ain't for me, pard.
And though the wages is near starvation--
Ain't no better job in all the nation!

So if you can stand all my complainin';
You've got to figure I is explainin'
'Bout how I really love this long hard lot,
'Cause I 'preciate all the good we got.

So if crankiness you sometimes do find,
Just smile and then pay me no never mind.
For you see this ain't really no rat race--
It's just how God keeps cowboys in their place.
© Glen Enloe  Create an image from this poem.

The Rat Race

As a child, I had much to do
Crushed it, when I tried to grew
Participant of the Rat Race, I am
Suddenly everything was scattered away

Now when I try to think of you
And calculate what went wrong
Where was my mind that day?
Why everything went so wrong?

After endless struggle, when I dream
Those equations , cry and scream
My demand curve went wrong way
And that was the end of everything 

The sweet little Tom & Jerry
still playing with no worries
Then my mind cries and says
those days are so far away

Every-time when I think of it
I think as I'm a liar and cheat
After this endless bargaining 
Life ends here.... Screaming
© Aarya Roy  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member After the Breakdown On Rat Race Road

Use at your own risk!
Recommend durable tires
and a durable psychology. 
I know, I know, I know
that I can't live 
through it again.
That's why I'm walking, 
watching my feet
in my red-rubber shoes.

Rat Race

Rat race, rat race,
All going to the same place,
Move faster and pay no mind,
Their games keep mankind blind,
Another number for the rich,
Someday when were in their ditch,

Rights, fights,
Gave them away for ravenous appetites,
Illusions and delusions
I pled guilty to sinister pollution,
Frustration comes 
As humanity goes numb

Rat race, rat race,
Inevitable landslide
Full of pride
Everyone’s lied,
Morality has died,
With arms open wide

America the Great
Like prey, they just wait
Bow down to your money
Make love to your greed
While you feed your need
Vampires now lead.


By: Sabina Nicole
2-14-13

The Rat Race

Every day there I am, out there.
Smartly dressed, all smiles, like I care.
Trying to fit in a world that has no fittings.
Standing straight and decent, in spite of my beatings.

This world is so cruel, yes I can see.
It Stands between me, and what I can be.
Am not a human being, but a keeper of rules.
I live in a prison with no bars, me and the other fools.

It begins in the morning when my eyes open.
I am tethered to the wishes of rich old men.
Am merely a small peace in an endless game of chess.
They move me when and where they wish, and pay me less

I am paid just enough to make sure me and my family affords.
Small luxuries manufactured by companies of my lords.
Soap, cooking oil and some cheap booze.
They have everything to gain I have everything to loose.

They get their money back whichever the case
And  I must get back to work to stay in the race.
They give bonuses and loans to the fast rats.
As they lick their fingers laughing and remaining the fat cats

The fat cats in their boardrooms make easy bets.
That the fast rats will never in time repay their debts.
The fast rats may have scored somewhere around a B plus.
But their only place in society will always be the middle class.

I am no fast rat, maybe a slow and dirty one.
For me I wonder what the cats have in plan.
All in know is that everything they discuss in that boardroom.
Is not for my welfare , but for my doom.

Still dreams flirt with me in my near impoverished state.
Like a fool proposing on a blind date.
I am so naive to think I can beat the puzzle.
For mine is but a mere and struggling hustle.

To the fat cats I declare war in form of justice.
I won’t stop fighting, kill me if you want peace.
For I might soon sire some crying babies to feed.
I won’t let their hunger be preceded by your greed.

My dreams failed, I will fight for theirs with a passion.
I will die than watch them become victims of ration.
I may not be living the life I want out there, 
But the life of my kids is all I am left to cares.

Driving Thru Rat Race Maze

I ain't gonna brag, boast, blab...,
lest yours truly suffers demise from backstab,
resignedly taking wheel of our automobile
donning, (but NOT trumpeting) 
role as taxi cab

shuttling the missus, (she effusively glad)
to medical appointment
me, the obliging husband
in order for this mister former cad,
debt, now an ordinary dude dad,

who upon snaking, crab
like sighing, shimmying, scooching...
thru bumper to (rubber 
baby buggy) bumper drab
morning commute, which 

snail's pace spurred shoutout, via ab 
dom men null controlled app     
designed by A. Habb,
which homonym identical 
sound of descendent, sans faint jab,

asper fictitious Capt'n of Pequod 
at sea vis a vis 
if forced to snatch macadam landgrab
all the while aye spent gab
bing maintaining mindful outlook 

for aggressive drivers,
whose cold icy stare 
felt akin to painful jab
methought best not to "flip the bird"
subsequently get rushed

to emergency medical lab
avoided, cuz aye hapt tubby vigilant
for brazen drivers, plus additionally
keeping keen eye for police ready to nab
speed demons (mailer or female) even nawab

receiving citation for traffic infraction
and if repeat offender sent to rehab
with license revoked,
nonetheless a slight stab
of anxiety as appointment time elapsed

indicated by built in digital clock
no matter arriving after 7:45 am time
my de facto role as chauffeur,
the wife would disfrock,
but fortunately excuse, sans gridlock

did not necessitate need
us to return at later date, thus no knock
kin wind out figurative sails, hence
circumstance did not
find me laughingstock,

thus any consideration, asper myself
resorting to quaffing hemlock
unnecessary honorable sacrifice,
that versus engaging in lethal warlock
additionally compromising private uber
to give spouse coveted lyft.

Enslaved To the Rat Race

The saying goes,
“Money makes the world go round”
and yet as I step onto this adult plane
as the initiated guest that I am,
I have come to learn
how false these six words ring,
for it is not money that purports to be
the cause behind
the revolution we see,
but instead the devil we know too closely
the one we wantonly call Greed
and its want for more
need for more
be it the paper we value more than life,
or the power we strive to hold each time
lusting after what we don’t have
desiring that which is out of reach
twisting something made from purity
and it comes as no surprise
the strides some of us will allow it to go
to grasp a coveted seat
away from the many layers below
even if it means sacrificing
people along the way
bringing with it
a great deal of hurt and pain
as long as we get what we want in the end,
even if it means tarnishing
our last and only way to repent
letting go of a conscience
we no longer recognize,
until we are unable to see
through someone else’s eyes.

Rat Race

Life is a race we did not choose
It is one, we were chosen for

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