Incantations Of A Weary Mind

 

 

The man is running down the hall,

Behind he could hear the ghostly call,

If he were to stop he would surely fall,

 

How did he get into this situation?

Chased by a ghostly manifestation,

With a wish for his eradication,

 

And to his surprise,

It is leading to his demise,

The things he does despise,

The monsters that arise,

 

The skeletons in his closet are seeking him out,

And he is getting worn-out,

 

With all the lies,

All the things that he denies,

He must escape lest he dies,

 

The apparitions of evil slowly faded,

To show a world even more evil and jaded,

He realized his own mind was what invaded,

 

He looked down to see three bulletholes in his chest,

He thought it was god, and that was all a test,

He failed as always, he had never done his best,

 

All that he saw was his tired mind,

Being too vivid and leaving him blind,

The thing he needed was to have time to unwind,

 

How did he come to his termination?

And to the disappointing realization,

 

He had wasted his life, - that was his evaluation,

Plus the thought that it wouldn't long be a bother was little consolation,

 

But he realized what he bled was time,

He was rapidly going past his prime,

Whilst he thought, he heard the lunch bell chime,

 

He has good reason to imagine a life beyond content,

Unlike reality his imagination has a portent,

Neither the monsters of deadly intent,

Nor the fatal wounds that made him lament,

Were his true torment,

It is the four walls of cement, - They are what he has grown to resent,


How did he find himself stuck in a nine-to-five occupation?

With an utterly pointless vocation,

He's already spent too much time in the organization under administration,

Now he's lost all appreciation and bereft of motivation,

Couldn't recall his last hope or aspiration,

He should never have joined the corporation,


So he sits in his cubicle selling toner,

The most interesting thing he had done was be an organ doner,

Then again,can't complain, never been much of a moaner.

The End

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