corporate slave

ake up
empty fist
clenching
cold wet sheets
sweat drenched in sleep
your frantic mind
broke with dawn
like they
break
your back
the slave driving
the endless
gaze
the eyes tiring
hands swollen
from grinding
fat fingers
fumbling
with the pen
you use to
draft your
letter of resignation
writing instrument
keeps slipping
for
there is
no blood coursing
carpel tunnel
leaves numbness
in your extremities
your scars are
forever
the middle class worker
dooomed to
flourish in
mediocracy
houses
cars
kids
family
you are
the top 10 percent
of the bottom 20 something
its the american dream
and you’re its victim