Working world

Liberate me from the woe,
the travesty of life,
that describes my everyday pursuits.
Everyone so eager,
as if they saw victory around the bend.

Yesterday, I met my manager on the street,
and the human being he once was
was no longer there.

Vacant like a seashell
gathering the sea’s wind.
What had he lost
but that anxiety of working life
which I realize now defined him?

Thus, liberate me:
Liberate the boring, tedious,
jobless me.
So that it may break from lethargy,
escape the death of atrophy,
and perhaps one day
my life will find its meaning.