Circling the Drain 

Circling the Drain #napowrimo 8

The sun rises. The sun sets.
In between the usual happens.
The alarm startles us at five.
Time to do the shower shuck and jive.

Assorted wheels whirl us toward our mundane jobs.
Buses, subways, bikes and cars;
The wheels of all go round and round.

For eight hours we sit in a carpeted square box working for the man. He wants us to think outside the box, as worker drones buzzing around the corporate hive.

Five comes and we’re homeward bound.
Home to family. Home to old pizza.
Home to our friends, our cell phones.

We repeat this daily grind day after day.
Month after month.
Year after year.
We go this until a disruption of the flow.
Violence takes our safety.
Illness takes our wellness.
Death takes our lives.

As we lay cold and silent,
Soon to be under the shroud of white,
The doctor calls it.
The time is 9:15.
We have been circling the drain of death all this time.

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