Life Searches

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 04, 2018

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Submitted: February 04, 2018

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Ridges are pulsating,

Soft bone struggle to keep the knuckles.

But it does, it holds tight.

Amidst fervent hours of typing.

 

Just everything seems joined,

But the present to that desirable future.

 

Blame it on the externals.

Pulsating too, are the markets.

And anxiety is your heart. 

Thus, self-doubt a by-product.

 

Join forces anything but work,

When competition are those forces.

 

So, you wait, Your life

In the clutches of a department,

Said to serve talent on a plate,

Your soul served for Company.

 

Company that don’t ask if you’re ok,

Not Company that grieves for life you gave.

 

But still you crave, and still you wait.

When it’s too late and you’re by a grave. 


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