Death Row

Trapped in a day job,
serving out a life sentence,
she began to feel the pressure
of the office walls closing in around her.

She watched the clock daily
with a keen eye,
marking time until the weekend
or even better, her vacation.

Ball and chained to the telephone,
she resented its very existence.
Everybody wanted something
and nobody ever said thanks.

She was troubled by the thought
of giving her life away
to a boss who always ignored her,
as if she were invisible.

But day in and day out
she did her duty faithfully
while the waves of boredom
surged over her in rhythm.

Oh sure, she had a good job.
It paid the bills and
sustained her routine existence.
But a good job wasn’t what she wanted.

She dreamt about freedom
and the luxury of spare time.
Of not having to be somewhere
every day, all day.

Time to think and write and create,
a chance to find herself
and live in tune
with the music of her soul.

She wondered what the purpose was
of typing
and filing
and answering the phone.

In the end she’ll have to ask herself,
Would she be remembered?
Had she made a difference?
Did she matter?
Was it worth it?

Written by Susan
Copyright 1998, All Rights Reserved