Chatter
By sjherron
Mon, 13 Sep 2004
- 541 reads
Three and a half walls separate me from You.
You with the child who's been kicked out of school.
You with the sciatica, begging the doctor for pills.
You with the ex, who still has your stuff.
You with the lover, whispering soft words of want.
You with the jalopy, mechanic extorting for cash.
Your chatter all hangs in the air above me.
Paperwork due and concentration long gone.
Your incessant prattle needles my brain.
Will you please hush your voice,
Simmer down and shut up?
Be quiet, be still.
Do your job and go home.
So I can cease my tirade and put my skills to good use.
Venting my frustrations via poem
On the Cubicle Farm.
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