Another day of work.

Every day it seems I
Want to wake up even
Later than
Yesterday.

My boss came in today.
Into my room he came
And poked me.
Just for fun.

Some days I just stare at
The little analog
Clock with its
Arms so still.

Watching the hour hand,
This is how I pass time
When time is
Not passing.

My desk is so sterile
It is hard to even
Think of girls
Or movies.

This is what will fill my
Autobiography
Chapters six
Thru Thirty

This is what I will tell
All my good friends' children
When they ask
Of my life.

I am too bored to work.
I am too scared to leave.
A zombie
Of a man.

Only nine more hours
And then I can go home
Where my boss
Will poke me.

Just for fun.