I am standing at the twilight of my career,
Wondering have I truly lived my life?
Dragging my feet to the corporate sweat shop,
As mundane as it could get,
Documenting every single act of foolishness,
Captivating it in an electronic mail,
And guarding the gates of corporate jail,
To secure one, from creatures created by the devil himself,
Ohh yes I belong to the same father,
Opportunist, calculative, manipulative, Secretive,
Deceitful, superficial,
pretentious,
I feel like a stranger,
An analog signal caught in the digital word.
Covering up,
All the goof- ups,
Burning midnight oil,
In flickering flames and
dusty smoky rings,
Waking up with a heavy
head,
For another morning affair!
