Day job.

I stand here slowly dying.

Inside I feel like crying.

It’s humdrum,

But I don’t want to be a bum.

Hide me away, Take me away,

From this sameness.

This is not my calling.

My job,

all to make a bob.

I don’t wish to stay.


I stand here stagnant,

My mind gone numb,

Withdrawn from the world,

I am already,

but this tedious job makes me worse.

Oh how I curse!


I want to walk the beam.


Putting on that fake smile,

Makes me want to run a mile,

I feel the bile.

Rising, rising.

Get me out of this hell.

So bored I feel like weeping.

Angry inside.

How did I get here?

I want to run away, Hide me away,

I don’t wish to stay.

I’m dying inside,

Drying up,

within the monotony of my job.

I just want to write.

Let me write.


Author: dreadibek

I am a vegan dread head who travels Scotland and writes poetry. I am an animal lover and activist. I love baking vegan cakes and biscuits and walking with my dogs, oh and I really love Tattoos. xxxx Feel free to follow me on Instagram. dreadibek_thetattooedpoet06

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