This is a poem. I haven’t written poetry for years. It’s probably crap but there you go.
It’s called Work
I don’t want to be here anymore,
This place that eats away my time.
I have devoted so much of my life, so much energy to this place.
It was a place of pride, of fun, of hard work with such a big sense of achievement.
But it isn’t anymore.
The thrill of the chase, the excitement has gone.
It used to be vibrant – the people, the work, the atmosphere – buzzing.
Colleagues who would rise to any challenge, climb any mountain
But there is no end, no let up in the pressure, no time to breathe or take stock.
And now I look around at faces that are tired, jaded.
People whose passion and enthusiasm is being eroded slowly but surely
And I think to myself:
I don’t want to be here anymore