Move on.

A rant. For all who have or do feel unapprectiated at work.

Yes, Boss the work is done. Which is exactly what I say, for every workday you ask. Oh, I'm not sorry if I'm not being polite to the one who pays. Everyday here is the same, the same everday. I'm losing my sanity, every minute that I'm here. My body is starting to break down, weakening, to its' extremities. Every box that goes down the line is eight pounds- a variable weight but sadly no more than eight. I work with robots. For I am a bot. Repeatitious movements are the ones' I make. Using a number, for what? Identification, to track my work, to learn of my f**k ups?

 

I'm not a number, I am a number with a barcode. Scan the barcode and you'll learn my name- by file only. You may ask me questions, but I may not answer. You pay me for my time here, but not out there. You're watching me from afar, but maybe sometimes lingering near. When you are breathing your air releases from you nose and shoots down to my neck as you're right there, no more than a foots' length away. You page me by intercom while I'm taking break, I have learned not to reply.

 

So I have been ranting and raving to you for about the last hour. You have said nor done anything. You sit there with the a stare. I will have no more. I quit. It is time to move on. Now I feel as good as the day I was first hired on. Watch me leave the door, I won't be back anymore. Watch as I move on while you stay here.

Reviews

[Melati]

Yes, sometime we have to move on from the past....but it takes time to move on. Even though we give up, but to move on it takes a while. Nice written!