No Real Mystery

It stank of stale piss and competing colognes
And, not for the first time, I wondered why I worked there.

I’d been made to feel stupid again
Before the day had even really begun
And, not for the first time, I wondered why I worked there.

Where is the value in clicking buttons,
Attending project meetings for years on end,
Filling out performance evaluations that have no meaning?
And, not for the first time, I wondered why I worked there.

Gone were the days of arrogance and confidence,
Those highpoints of my early twenties.
They thinned with the hairs on top of my head
And weakened with the color in my beard.
And, not for the first time, I wondered why I worked there.

But then I went home.
The home the Queen and I built together,
The Kingdom for our two little princes, who aren’t so little anymore,
And I helped put dinner on the table, and I listened to the boys giggle,
And I read them books and sang them songs and brushed their teeth,
And, not for the first time, I hoped I would continue to work there…

Because what I deal with for my nine to five
Is nothing really in the grand scheme of things,
In the pursuit of what is best for those I love.

12 thoughts on “No Real Mystery

    • Thank you. Yes. The dream takes work and sacrifice and the ability to understand that dreams are different for everyone. We don’t need to and we shouldn’t want to aspire to the same things.

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