There once was a man in the street
Ostensibly shifting his feet.
His pinstripes could not
repress

working home
one's office lair
over-posted hallways
scare

spare bedroom's walls

As I walk out of this place
The breeze feels so good on my face
It's something I missed
I nearly

As we live and breath,
some people make do with what they need,
others live in greed,
never to

You think we live in fear
But we live in hope
That one day you will be no more
And won't be on

Started writing an epitaph for myself, sounded stupid.
Cried on the 29th approaching new year
Made

I saw something really beautiful this morning. As
I was driving towards work, the full moon was

When you are tired
of your working place
close your eyes
in a pause
Imagine everyone
is going

As I look around this place
I see people here a while
I see people who are disgraced
Some can't

Awake again to tasks and daily ways;
Reluctant rise to foot the well worn soil,
the stomach calls,

You know whenever you enter
Your coming to a call centre
The screen tells YA how many is

Send my regards to the boss
The leader of our workforce
The calculator of the cost
Of each single

Fortune smiled on Derry in the end of fifty six,
When a little field of nothing much was added to

Start the work now, it's nothing.

Let's put this here.
Why not move this further.
I did not

I hate this job and its driving me nuts
Killing my soul by a thousand cuts.
I can’t stand the

Another mulberry bush to run around.
Another kite trying to lift off the ground.

Another meet-up

Find me here, under
-- undermining
underachieving --
waiting out and over-waiting
for it to

Looking out my window,
Looking into tomorrow,
Wondering,
Dreaming,
Hoping,
That I may soon be

I was half asleep at the time,
Slumped in my chair at the Friday round table of area