The Corporate Slave

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Have we forgotten to live in the race to make a living?

Submitted: May 08, 2013

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Submitted: May 08, 2013

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I hardly feel fear-struck
to furnish a lie
 and rarely look at the poor souls passing by
I am no more a host
to emotional fleas
Long ago the avarice overpowered
my penchant for peace

Amidst a mob of maniac workaholics
and alcoholics,
I sip in my innocence along with wine
to keep me awake as
my brain grills
my vocational prowess and skills
to foster a futile name
in this corporate game


It's been a while,
nine years to be specific
since I laughed like a child
and wept like a human
Robotic I feel,
programmed to process
requests and plans,
sans a heart
or soul,
sans a smile
or dole
And this is not a hyperbole

Millions are enslaved to employment,
deprived of values
and
lost in a money-making mob,
including me and you.


Two septuagenarians wait at home
with anxious eyes and eager heart,
to hear a word or two 
from me,
but I only apologize  
" This city engulfed me, Mother.
I grew in age but only putrid,
I am lost in a tide,
forgive your kid"

 

 


© Copyright 2018 Rashi Kumar. All rights reserved.

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