Friday, March 30, 2007


This is a short sad poem I wrote last week while frustrated and waiting for a couple of people to pull their heads out. I call it Big Business Regression.

In this never ending crap hole we currently drown.
Hoping to hit bottom, but continuing down.
Wondering if hell is close or if this is the worst
Pressure building till capillaries begin to burst
Wanting something different, something more
Feeling like a filthy, cheap corporate whore
Sentiments long forgotten, returning somehow
Tried to flee in terror, but it's too late now
Pointless it seems, pointless it is
Failing the once thought simple quiz

The name may not make sense to you, but that's only because you weren't there.

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