This is not an account of how people at work treat me,
This is just my persona, speaking, may be its my perception,
May be, But its the world out there, wanting to chew me down in a thousand pieces,
Its evident, Its right there, waiting each day, like a hungry dog, wanting attention.
Each day I enter, I flash my card, I wait to be obliged,
Making millions each day, pay me cents, pay me less,
Make me want to quit, but like a bonded labour, i work,
Swear if I had a chance, I would thrash them all ye fools.
Entering office, gloomy faces around, only happy face is that of my pc,
Inhuman, but bright, intellectual, but stupid,
Happy faces around, just a couple, for whom i maintain the code,
The only source of creative upsurge, is them, oh beloved.
Mark me, Unmark me, Add me and Negate me,
I am there, right in front of your eyes, oh mighty kings,
But you can't see the faithful, who work under you, you like leeches,
Cling on to you, make you feel good, rotten rats, may you get more kisses.
Its not easy, Working each day, faithfully, undermined, disgraced, teased,
Shame, you redefine my persona, I go beyond, the normal upholding,
Fall down the grave to see a thousand souls, resting, they were smitten,
They were pressed, oppressed, degraded and decomposed, they were lying there,
Zombies.
Opened my eyes, to gaze at the empty office, I was still far from over,
While others were safely in bed, Worried about me were a handful, Can't do much,
Just Moan.
I opened my eyes, opened to sunshine, in that dark hour, in that spliff of smoke on my lips,
And my lungs full of the fire, the monster had risen, from me, the depths. They shall END.
