A depatiated form of just sticking to a job that is not so interesting.
men with positions
making them feel important
having a stern mask behind a flapped wings
men and women laughing with their jokes
judgment all around
hands inside the pocket lays a certain type of men
you judge them too
not with a closed eye or with a dislike towards a certain way of living
each one of us are curious
that is how I am a human
that is how you are a human,
you have to do something with your brain
either you get busy dying or get busy living
a slogan that pops up out of nowhere,
men with hard looks and their fragile egos running wild with a simple look that they don't want to harm anybody
All I look for is trouble
To have a fight
even if costs my job
but nobody wants to make eye contact
always a smile and a loose handshake

the chair with a tilted right side
your back starts to get hurt
the money is the eye of the prize, so you sit quietly
the poor and his losses where there is no loss, only desires of fleeting importance
the powerful men are at the top and don't shows their faces
we on the other hand don't show ours to them
a cycle of no shows
one depressed
and the other is unknown
your status, and your pride of an ego that you always keep silent
a certain texture of layers
and then again at the whiteboard of lines,
line after line
it's the capitalism that is giving us the opportunity to be someone
I laughed
I laughed
and sat quietly at the chair that is tilted left

Routine is making me crazy
the same hours of putting a pant
the same hours of catching a metro to see others playing the same hours
the broken tree that is attached to the cable is still there
it has been over a month
well, as slow as we are, then it has to be.
Politicians at their own job with a certain type of mask that he is wearing.
Mask and their way of living, a con artist and his various instances of playing a certain role with stories that are on a constant move.
the workplace and the way of life, my own way of life, getting behind in life of the people that I know nothing about, yet I know their faces and their own trivial motive of nonchalant desires.

power.
or simply for the poor ones is to get to a place where they can meet the eyes of other people
for the middle class, it's the oblivion form of nowhere,
nothingness and pain of everything that the poor feel but in a comfort way
Yet power has its own defining motive all together
you love it of the first site of it
like someone is seducing with just his charm
the way he speaks and the way he moves his body
you don't see those people in the workplace
all you see are light bulbs and headlights
the style has been out of their life, with a screen and a juggling motive to look at their own interest as keenly as a robber
the work place and you in it?
what do you do?
what do you play?
are you really honest about the things that you say to other people?
or do you manipulate?
or are you the reader who is just looking at the stars of galaxies of contemplation of various notions?

I think you are dumb!
but that too requires a certain element of stupid bravery to blurt it all out.
somebody is paying the fox, maybe it's me, I am listening yet I have no thoughts about their stories and yet I listen, some man drinks his day off,
some look like they have just murdered someone and women are always on the look,
chatting their own beliefs and stigmas of various other people
you try to avoid sometimes
but it's unavoidable
the workplace and his own tasks of various routes about so many people
they are having their own needs that they want to experience
and everything is not an experience
it is mistakes and the juggling motive of seriously going for the kill
it is the act that is breaking you in parts
and also your own memories of thoughts that have no idea where it is heading.

In the workplace where you go through a certain period of time
for a year
for a month
for a lifetime
for a responsibility
for a need
or simply to pass time that has its own naïve take of complete idiot
who are you at your workplace?