Gray Monday

Forced to endure another Monday
A prisoner held against my will
Surrounded by cold, dead eyes
In a room of unimaginable droll

Drab walls of gray obscurity
Fluorescent lights that twinkle
Silent voices that softly echo
In a cubicle maze with no exit

Bored, disconnected
Alone and outcast
Staring at a broken clock
Where time stands still

Hearing your footsteps approach
I brace for your friendly disdain
We exchange mutually polite lies
Simple charlatans without remorse.

A poem by Jason S. Sullivan, 10-05-20

2 thoughts on “Gray Monday

  1. Well described, I can picture it with clarity, having a familiarity with cubicles. I can also relate to the exchange of mostly meaningless words required by social convention, but I like to believe that a smile and a kind word are acts of love that work upon the soul of their recipient. 🙂 God bless you Jason!

    Liked by 1 person

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