A desperation to leave
is there not more in me?
aren't I worthy of more?
More than systematic boredom
and too many early mornings
just to make ends meet.
I want to move on,
to move out of this apathy
into a place of inspiration.
I try not to talk of work
because it's filled with empty actions:
nothing I do has any meaning.
It's all white noise,
empty tasks to occupy time
duties to satisfy anonymous others
like building a sandcastle kingdom
to please an absent parent
who might not even exist.
-Zero
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