Monday, April 8, 2013

The Need for Attention.

I ask myself, is this what I was meant to do?
Every Monday is a struggle
Because we resign to our fate by Tuesday
Wednesday is a celebration because we made it to the middle of the week
Thursday is the soothing anticipation for Friday
Friday, it's almost over, the cycle of pain
On Saturday and Sunday, the days that pass by
In a blur
We drink, eat, sleep, just to forget
That there is something like excel sheets
Progress reports,
Meetings that suck the marrow of your soul

And bad coffee

Don't you dare forget the bad coffee
Because the amount of bad coffee I've drank
I could write a book about it
I don't even mind taking this poem off a tangent
To tell you how bad the coffee is

But even then I drink it every day
Because, really, the only other option
is bad tea
And that is even worse, trust me, than the bad coffee

You have to trust me when I tell you
That none of us, even the most strongest, smartest, the fastest, the funniest, the sexiest, the realest, the fakest, the modest,
Would be able to survive,
If left in a jungle island, without Wi-Fi

You can't really tell jokes to trees
If you don't get any feedback
Your crippling need for attention
Will eat you from the inside out

1 comment:

  1. Ended on different and powerful note.