Some days are just like that

It starts the night before when you forget to reset the alarm, and it just doesn’t get any better as you race for the train; realise you’ve left your security card at home…and miss the last cheese scone from your favourite cafe. In a world that doesn’t wait for us, life can feel start to feel like never ending grind.

On account of the fact that burning my hand yesterday with boiling water washed away any inspiration to write. At least I can type one handed!

I have trawled through the archive to find something to post. This one has a very deep cynicism about the futility of what we are sometimes paid to do, and how it feels to do it.

Fluorescent Sun     
Times have changed so much    
Or so they say. But we are still chained    
To the wheel, just in different ways.    
Selling each word produced    
To buyers in a market    
Where they only pay for half-truths, reduced.    

Tap, tap, tapping     
Under a fluorescent sun    
Doing what I’ve always done.    
Keeping my head down    
Not rocking the boat    
In my corporate uniform    
Costumed, feeling like a clown. 
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on

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