Volunteering but it's not a proper job,
Seen past workmates get bullied and sob.
Selling yourself in the formal interview,
They don't care what you've been through.
A new job chasing currency or green?
Never liked this systematic death machine,
Most managers are angry, it would seem.
Mental torture, mind games and menial tasks,
Bigger questions to be raised, nobody asks.
An iron fist beats out all the enjoyment,
What exactly is this term employment?
More like a soul crusher of bad torment,
Low vibes and misery, this is more than a vent.
- Author: Shaunmatthewcpoetry ( Offline)
- Published: January 8th, 2025 02:24
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Comments3
A manager doing a bit of work? What unbelievable thing will we see next?! lol.
Hahaha yes, bank on point.
Great write
Cheers.
You're welcome
A means to an end to line the pockets of others, enjoyed the read
Yes indeed, I need to work again but picky on what I do next.
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