(poem) - The Age of Rust

What is left for us
Those who dwell in the rust

Days pass by and still we persist
Its almost as if, we are still trying to resist

People still call it ‘The Man’
Because its all part of the Machine’s plan

Its rolling and churning
Doing nothing but destroying

Collecting money for itself
Putting all its riches upon the shelf

We all help it along
Even if you do nothing but smoking a bong

Because it feeds off all of us
In one way or another, in god we trust

What hope is there for a better tomorrow
I feel the death of us in my bone’s marrow

It gives me aches and pains
As fear seeps in, destroying memories within my brain

Is the past the thing I remember
Or did I gloss it all over in November?

I stare into the mirror’s reflection
And fear my face’s deep set aggression

For there is nothing but hatred within my eyes
For those that tell all the lies

Because lies are what got us here
Kiss all the rich people’s rears

We are nothing but the cobble stones
That led them all to there hedonistic thrones

Luckily there is a special place in hell
For all those that poisoned the well

Because poisoned it has become
In this existence that is nothing but bedlam

We strive and strive for things we can’t have
For our wounds, there is no salve

So go out and slave away
At minimum wage all day

As the people above your boss
Reap all the benefits of the life you’ve lost

While I ponder what is left for the rest of us
As well dwell in the Age of Rust.

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!

(poem) - Some Bosses Have it Coming

Bad bosses, bad bosses
They are all around us
Those that take their power
To throw us under a bus

I’ve dealt with them
All my life
They are good for nothing
Except way too much strife


But how do you get them back
When you’ve finally had enough?
Do you lash out and quite
As soon as it gets rough?

Say the day before your scheduled
Would that be okay?
To walk up to the boss
And tell them to have a nice day?

Or maybe you shouldn’t
Even show up at all
They’ll call to yell
And you can tell them where to crawl


Or are you the ‘better person’
And allow them to win
By turning in your two week’s notice
Showing up until your days end?

The fact is, many bosses have it coming
They allow their power to go to their heads
And treat their workers
As if they were brain dead.

Why do people get that way?
How do they fall so far?
Or are assholes predisposed
To climbing the corporate ladder?

All I know for sure
Is that I’m sick to death
Of all these douche bags
Being allowed to take another breath

So if you are in a position
To screw your boss over
I say go for it
Its not like they’d give you a good reference ever

Don’t let anyone take your happiness away
Especially not for a paycheck
Money might be hard to come by
But if your on the way out anyway...what the heck?

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!

Always look up

Its really hard to find something good to write about when people walk all over your life.  Heck, its hard to want to do anything but complain.  I hate when those who think they are entitled to be in your life mistreat you, bring you down, or just outright use you.

How could you not wallow in such things, get swept away by the emotion of the situation?  In the end, you have to some how rise above it all, or they win.  Some things are far more easily said than done.