A Slave's Resignation

My back bleeds from bureaucratic
whippings of enslavement.
The corporate ladder was snatched swiftly
from under my climbing feet
with an envious quake.

The crash was crippling as
my twisted ankle curls
on the freshly grouted marble tiles.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOUCH!" I hallowed in excruciating pain.

souls didn't notice my aching sole while passing by

A souless human am I who's working
ONLY
to get the Dime of dimes.
(After all, how else am I gonna support my dependent kin?)
I traded my soul to Judas for 30 silver merits.

Was it worth it?
That's *very* debatable!

The sun's pelting heat that pelted my ancestors
has been replaced by cooling AC units.
The Middle Passage stench
is now being misted over with Lysol.

How dare me speak of this corporate enslavement?
What could I possibly know about degradation, exploitation and mental incarceration?

My intellect is being reduced to rubble as I
robotically
adhere to your Double Standard Protocol.
So scripted, repetitive and rehearsed
I "happily" do the Slave Masters' oh so charming work.

My mobility is chained by favouritism and bias.

Does meritocracy still exist?
Or does my freedom come at a cost?


Freedom asks for a quantity that is
quantifiable in measurements of sanity,
integrity and even self pride.

Slave masters languish in their newly attained ranks
whipping their colleagues
until the litmus hues are changed to
bluish blacks.

I cry with anger.

I cry with fear

I cry because wherever I go
invisible enslavement finds its way there.

This sodding boatride must come to a sodding end!

Regards,
Kay