Corperate bootcamp
You where the only thingthat eased life
ingested and digested.
Now the sutle glares
in hallways and cubes
filled with whispers.
"What a Low life"
strikes the anxiety
stairing at the back
of your head.
Like a third eye,
you know they
prejudge before you
get a word in edgewise.
Thrown of kilter
you try to recompose,
but by that time
the elevator comes
to an end.
You realize all
spoken tounge
was just blabber.
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