Monday, November 10, 2008

127. P. Ink

127. P. Ink

Phillip Ink has a lot of
emotions ready to burst.
Feelings bottled up I
suppose is worst. Which
can lead to high blood
pressure and an eventual
Hurst. The lesser of two
evils, that's the curse. I
can attempt to explain
like talking to a
psychological nurse.

At intervals of ticking
time, seconds are replaced
with scheming rhymes. behind
each constructed line...
The truth stripped of lies.

I'm tired of the bullshit
that accompany
the job. The minipulation
& micro-management in
between sobs.

Pay me my overtime & cut
the drama act. It all comes
down to the facts. your
pouring down the s tress
about useless things no
less. Your taking away my
joy for teaching & replacing
it with contempt for breathing.
Your not helping me to be
my best. Your making me want
to resign so I can get
some rest.

1 comment:

sandi said...

Don't like your job huh? That sucks! BUT the poem was great!