Low waged
Connecting each string two by two,
tying turning pairs into one by tying.
Prepping things for what I do to do,
packing what I am paid to be packing.
Twisting each loop one by one,
filling each bag that needs filling.
In time I will be done being done,
willing I am to finish what I'm willing.
I hate this job.
A soldiers want
Tonight I lower my head and say goodbye,
face reality with my eyes closed.
Soft tears as I fight the cry,
soon in the darkness to be posed.
Zeroed in I find myself tonight,
targeted and my end is near.
Closed eyes with you in my sight,
I know this is what you fear.
Sorry my dear, my love, goodbye,
we both have each other to miss.
Thinking of you while I die,
wanting one last kiss.
-
Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 9th, 2025 07:38
- Comment from author about the poem: Two different directions. Two different story lines sorry.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments1
Two different stories but similar in some ways. Both under paid both with little hope and a bit dark.
true
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