Ambling through the day
Aches and pains trickle through the form
Bliss-free living
Daily grind gnawing at the soul
Oppressive structure thickens the glass ceiling
Limiting opportunities to many
Then they wonder why people go postal
Men go mad in a world that makes no sense
Women rage at the dying of creativity and expression
Confusion echoes through the hallways
Plagues run unchecked
The cure seems just as malevolent
Reality itself begins to crack
From the pressure of the mundane world