Monday, February 12, 2024

The chill of the gray everywhere, the cloud blankets like a thick rug depriving entrance of the sun

 What May I expect? Of myself? Of everything that happens  

Around me oblivious mostly if completely not, closing me 

Out out out! I am so on my very own all my a king sleeping

Hours, in search of affection, of understanding, acceptance

The same old and new and now over so we be overthinking

With idle moments many in us and around as we become

Us, ourselves? Others? Labeled and stamped and without

Approval, with no real thanks, our bosses want us in check,

They want our work, our ideas for which they take credit full!

No need to praise just frown, admonish, criticize, us down

Down down-size, we are not the prize or to be prized, we

Are workers of toil of no further use once drained, trained

To X plode Im plode work till we drop dead dead dead as






To those bosses they do not hear or see us and care not at all!

I am on this theme, my eyes are opening wider to wider to

Widest widths with greater focused retina and peripheral, too!

To see the beasts that will and do so readily feast thanks 2 us!

Time we,ntoo feast of those selfish criminal ugly beasts! Ugh!

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