The Rat Race

Smart goals governing dubious objectives
Deadlines dissected from various perspectives

The bottom line is always laced with profit
Everything is second to the dollar, our almighty prophet

Work and life balance
Hangs precariously from the valence

Like window dressing it's on the fringe of life's priority
I trade it reluctantly for promises of seniority

We are twisted and grotesque
Leaving loved ones behind to sit behind a desk

What a mess my life is
So many years evaporated like fizz

Why am I here on this earth
Surely not to debase my cosmic worth

I am getting older not younger
And dumber as I grow wiser

Only a fool would continue wasting his days
Forfeiting the graces of life
Never knowing the wages it pays

I lament at all the ways I cannot break free
From these invisible chains that cage me

Free In Thought

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