Work Day


The hours snail by

Inside my spirit dies

With each passing minute here

Under pressure under fear

Treated as incompetent

Smiling without sincere intent

Tasks drag on endlessly

Unchanging as the tide of the sea

Finally all is put to rest

So let my day and work be blessed

Advertisements

About The Lost Poet

I write because I find inspiration. It is my hope that through my writing some connections may be felt. Everything I write comes from my experiences with life, and with the people that I love. I try to remember to see myself in everyone, and everyone in myself.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s