Hungry for pride
I\'m walking straight ahead sort of proud,
wearing a uniform that speaks so loud.
The problem is that I have no more trust,
so many pieces have fallen off the crust.
The cheese has dried and no longer stretches,
the vegetables look now like a child\'s sketches.
There is rotted meat thrown across the pie,
no patterns or designs flow to the naked eye.
Cross cut and divided the job now seems,
past notions of living a prideful dream.
Programmed to walk straight ahead,
conflicts about the job in my head.