The Resume You Can't Submit

It doesn't show up on the page,

Not in the skills or the degree.

It's in the fog that clouds your mind,

The man you promised you would be.

It steals the focus from the task,

The sharp edge from your driven will.

The drive that once was for your goals,

Now serves a pixelated thrill.

It whispers you have time to waste,

An hour lost, then half the day.

The project deadline starts to loom,

But you just click and look away.

It rewires what you think is drive,

Exchanging passion for a cheap, fast high.

The interview you need to ace?

You're too exhausted now to try.

It doesn't crash the system down,

No grand and catastrophic fall.

It's just a slow and steady drain,

Until you have no drive at all.

That promotion and that corner office view?

They're buried in the tabs you quickly close.

The future that you're meticulously killing,

Is the one that only you truly know.