For anyone who’s had that job in their life that they just can’t stand.
Alarm goes off, your eyes prize open, you drag yourself from bed,
you sigh and trudge and start to dread the working day ahead.
The early starts now wearing thin, the gruelling daily slog,
As every day when you clock in to your tireless, thankless job.
Just a number, a voice, a name on a screen,
A well oiled cog of a giant machine.
Daily delays, long waits for the train, in your battle to make ends meat,
As you stand in that famous, great British rain, train arrives but you can't find a seat.
So you stand and you sway, as the train chugs away,
the same grey, dreary faces seen day after day.
Same place, same train, same time, same suit,
Same cheap aftershave, same tie, same commute.
The force fed, 'good mornings' or 'enjoy your weekend'.
The same Monday meetings you're forced to attend.
The increased sales targets, the dreaded cold calls,
The Mankie old carpets and plain office walls.
Cheap office tea, the same meal deal at one,
Fear of bankruptcy if their costs overrun.
Part of the system, a slave to the trade,
That pay rise so distant, Overworked and underpaid.
The brownosers winning, the chumps left on the heap,
The CEOs grinning at the staff they've hired cheap.
Fatigue now always with you, you once felt so alive,
As now deep down you beg them for Mr P45,
8 hours a day, 5 days a week, they all drive you berserk,
Is it true that only fools and Horses work?
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Author:
Glass full empty (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 22nd, 2021 12:50
- Comment from author about the poem: This was about a job a had a few years ago that I truly despised :)
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Coyote, L. B. Mek, The elder poet.
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Comments6
Some really nice rhyming going on in this amazing piece. I can wholeheartedly relate to the abject despair of slogging to a hated job and you put it all poetically succinct. Love this one.
Meat = meet.
Change and I'll scrub this.
I've had a few jobs in my time, one or two interesting some just this side of mediocre and at least one boring as...
I was definitely born to be a gentleman of leisure but made a really bad judgement when I chose my parents.
Your piece is very much as I remember that job, and I couldn't get out fast enough....took a little time given the economic circumstances of both me and the nation - but eventually....
Well covered.
'So you stand and you sway, as the train chugs away,
the same grey, dreary faces seen day after day.
Same place, same train, same time, same suit,
Same cheap aftershave, same tie, same commute.
The force fed, 'good mornings' or 'enjoy your weekend'.
The same Monday meetings you're forced to attend.
The increased sales targets, the dreaded cold calls,
The Mankie old carpets and plain office walls.
Cheap office tea, the same meal deal at one,
Fear of bankruptcy if their costs overrun.'
yup, sadly I know these lines very well...
a great read, thanks for sharing
I didn't exactly hate my job but only did it so that I could pay bills and leave at the end of the day to do the things I really enjoyed and you capture that slog commute so brilliantly that it makes my heart sink just thinking about doing all that again - which I luckily don't have to any more!
So many people know how you feel . But off they go every day . Putting on a face that shows a smile. Offering greetings of good morning. We are all actors hiding behind that smiling mask. I started working at 16 years old. One of seven children born into my family . I'm a twin. My father was in a vetrans hospital with TB. me and my brothers had to work to support the family. I've worked all types of jobs .From working building houses to working at a saw mil. a canning house . I've work 17 years at three different nuclears plants in three different states. I've been working 53 years of my life. So I know of what you write. I just retired a few months ago at the age of 70. Only because of working and finally being broken down.I enjoyed reading your poem. Your rhyming is awesome. Thank you for sharing.
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