Unlocked Cuffs

I still feel the shackles cut deep into my wrist

each time I get a new memo for management

to add another link in that chain

they hold over my life.

 

It is a prison where there are no locks or guards

since survival is the manacle they hold

around your time that they own

not concerned if you enjoy being their slave

since reality is a desert of employment.

 

There was a time when I dream

of a job full of reason to go to work

a place that made sense and inspired

not just added stress to the day

made each hour so miserable and sad.

 

But that was when youth had possibilities

before age became a pair of cuffs

in terms of getting hired at other jobs.

 

Now I shuffle off to that place of labor

never expecting more than a paycheck,

while seeing that same empty look in so many eyes.

Sometimes in that cold dead world

inside I let myself dream of escape,

the chance to know more than monotony

and the loss of enthusiasm.

 

Inside I find some reason to go to the office again,

give myself a motivation to add some energy

unto this time clock morgue.

 

Between the apathy and indifference

do I manage to hold onto my sanity

though not always sure for how long

since so many I work with

already seem to have let go of their minds.