Like something given you,
At work, that demands to be done,
With very few,
Forgivenesses, like time and resources.
It's very unlike life,
With no love, freedom or option to opt out,
It cuts you like a knife.
And this stress cuts back on your life.
It's a menace, making you do,
Something you'd never think of,
Or want to.
And it's alright,
You can always quit,
And be left with the pain of idleness,
And debt.
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