Somedays I feel as if I’m dying inside
On others the world is a beautiful place
I have an unerring ability to bury the bad and go out and smile
Although too often at home I fail

Over and over and over I ask myself
How did I get here?
To a place I loathe
Despise
Pity
And I let the bastards grind away at my soul
They gnaw at me from the inside out

But more importantly why can’t I escape
Why can’t I find an alternative means of earning a crust
One that pays, not necessarily well, just pays
One that appreciates what I do
One that doesn’t turn me into a monster
One where I’m me

Trapped with no visible means of escape
I’ve been sentenced to 10 years hard labour
And I passed the sentence
Locked the door
Threw away the key

Is there anybody out there?
Gis a job. I can do that.