THE WORKING DEAD (a poem by eazy from a.k)

With the suit and tie my hands were tied

With the goals of my masters my soul will die

My dreams are bright, but my eyes were blind

By the loads of task that stole my time

Work hard they said, it pays they said

I played myself my office a cell

Officer boss but what have I done

At the end of each month, is that my worth?

Some sort of funds that won’t last for long

So I can look forward to making some more

Fooling my mind that the next payday is near

And all this years I lived in fear of getting fired

By the boss I dread