What it is about work,
For I have always felt it is absurd,
No, I've felt it's berserk.
That one spends the majority of life,
Doing something random,
Just to make enough money to live life,
Not that I am afraid of exertion,
It is just that the world that we have built,
Is so complicated,
The 'work' we do's not linked with survival,
No fish need be bated,
No choice exists,
There really are no words,
To ponder what to do with the free time,
Earned once our food and shelter is secured.
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