In the realm of relentless toil we dwell,
Where shadows of exhaustion cast their spell,
Beneath the weight of tasks we carry on,
Our spirits crushed by the daily grind anon.
From dawn to dusk, we labor without respite,
Bound by obligations that dim our light,
The echoes of a clock's unceasing chime,
Marking the rhythm of our fleeting time.
In cubicles of solitude, we reside,
Lost in a sea of monotony and pride,
Our dreams deferred, our passions set aside,
As we march to the beat of a corporate stride.
The whispers of a paycheck fail to console,
For in our hearts, a longing takes its toll,
To break free from the chains that bind our soul,
And find a path where true fulfillment may unfold.
But in the end, we soldier on with grace,
Seeking solace in the warmth of a familiar place,
For in the crucible of work, we find our space,
And strive to find meaning in this endless race.


Comments (5)
Thanks 😊
Nice truth telling. Appreciate these kind of poems!
Ooh, so true. Love this
Beautifully written.
Really cute - and accurate - poem that details the woes of 8-5 each weekday.