Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Near The End Of May 2010

How can it be, that in the midst of all the green,
Things can be so negative and mean.

Sitting for mind-numbing, screen-sucking, hours,
Missing the rebirth of spring, and the flowers
Which no one has the time to smell
As we treadmill, loyally, in our office hell.

But the others, who share my shift and place,
It's them who are my saving grace ---
We all pull, like sled-dogs, on the run ---
Not unhappy, in a space, which sees not the sun.

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