Work

Written on the request of Sam Zaman

Working my way through a blank page
Every minute of the day, I am stuck in the cage
What keeps me alive are smells of coffee and her breath
I will never get her, she is like crystal meth

Completed programs are compiled by me
Every minute of the day
I would rather let it be
What keeps me coming are her face and her warmth
I can never marry her
It just seems to be the norm

Floating ice in my Glass of whisky
A flowing river far away by the window side
Birds are flying , returning home
But I am tied to my chair
Sleeves rolled
Meetings and talks

As I keep watching my computer like a married spouse

The new blonde receptionist leaves
And I die a little on the inside