Grey skies, cold and bleak,
white shirts and dark trousers
under harsh fluorescent lights
and the pale glare of computer screens.
Across the open-plan office,
the photo-copier has a paper jam,
the grey machine giving up
refusing to take it anymore.
Trudge to the kitchen for a cup of tea,
heaped spoonfuls of sugar
and splash of milk,
tired colleagues needing their caffeine shot.
Good weekend?
Yeah, you?
Yeah.
Back to the desk and the drudgery
wishing it was weekend
just hoping to make it to lunch-time.