Day 1: My feet hit the cold tile and my eyes strain at the board.
I hear your monotonous bore,
I think, I think, no more.
I am just another one of the horde.
Day 2: The straps pull at my back
and I walk the line.
Always believing what you say, in time.
Always becoming another card in the stack?
Day 3: slowly I align,
much like the swine
I await the washing,
Day 4: forcably I fight,
but none can withstand the might
of the establishment.
Oh, the political harrasment.
Day 5: bitter as pure salt
the first snow flake on the asphalt.
no more can I answer my own call.
Weekend: I drudge home,
time to wash my parents.
Everyone is of monotonous tone.
Finally now I am the missionary of adherence.