Title: 9 to 5
by Andrew | in writing, poetry
Warm breath on my neck,
Muscles tightening,
Paranoia setting in,
STOP.
Alone in the dark,
No prayer,
No hope,
No reason to carry on.
My stagger through the 9 to 5 life,
Running has no cause.
STOP.
Frozen in the dark,
Society leaves the weak behind,
And praises the strong minded,
And we live in a shell,
Of fear,
Of underachievement,
Of sadness.
STOP.
The so called democracy breaths a sigh of relief,
Enemy of the state falls into the abyss,
That is 9 to 5.
Lifes repitive nature
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