Selling One's Soul
Thy Soul as hollow as a gutter
left sitting during a drought -
is the feeling surging through oneself Monday morning -
the day representing the beginning of a time
that is not yours.
Sunday poisoned by the knowledge
of what's to come the next day -
the sadness, the heaviness
as one drudges through the morning routine, preparing to present thyself
to the slave master.
Woe to the masses as
they bow down to the Lord of the coin -
dreaming, stretching through
to the reprieve that will lend itself
in five days time.