Commuters Jig

All the pomp and propaganda

And the things we leave behind

In haste to try and satisfy

Those that that leave us unfulfilled

In the corner of our mind

Rush and race and forget embrace

As we dance the commuters jig

Free to buy and exemplify

The life we pretend to live

T’is but a dream

A fat charade

In an epic sordid tale

Of all the masks we tend to wear

And ships we set for sail

Dream not your dreams

But dream theirs

Work yourself to death

While love floats by

And your soul dies

Regrets alive on your last breath

Instill the thought in your child’s mind

That this is their dream too

To leave alone the sticks and stones

In favour of a buck or two

What a waste this silly pace

That leaves us wanting more

Than what our bosses swear we’re worth

And what they’ll ever pay us for

(This life that we deplore…)

And yet we stay and masquerade and always beg for more.

May 20, 2020

By Erin de Blois

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