Day 306 – Tuesday, March 14, 2017

9-to-5

Damn this fucking 9-to-5, and damn 4-hour commutes,
The worthlessness and folly here, I just cannot compute

Reminders set to write my prose, they ding me twice each day,
Once at noon, once at eight, and this is what they say:

“You’re running Mo, you need to slow, and pause this stress and strife,
It’s more than fucking 9-to-5, –which takes up most your life”

That’s the reason for these prose; I knew there’d come a day,
When compromise and healing merged, and turned to pay for play

It’s harder now, I’ve touched that place where’s goals are within reach,
Where substance matters, friends and hearts; that healing I beseech

So difficult it’s been since then, to spin the shuck and jive,
Not setting well, I cannot dwell, in fucking 9-to-5…

© Maureen (Mo) O’Brien
C U Tomorrow,
-Mo