by Patrick Marchildon

Created on: February 08, 2011

In this prison, I remain leashed to a telephone with blinking lights
Like a dog in a never ending rat race seeking salvation somehow.
I stare at an empty monitor with software applications opened
Useful tools to an employer seeking efficient money making ability.

The walls appear high and preventative against escape, possibly electric.
Like the fence that borders my unknown unfamiliar desires from comfort.
I think about the clutter filled stairway of goals I've nursed to life
I wonder the consequence of wasted time spent over contemplating.

I am easily content in so many settings yet feel empty as my piggy bank
Little to show for years of reflection aside from independence
Not to say my youth is nearing an end by any means
I am merely seeking the comfort that direction brings.

There is a lingering fear of failure that manifests itself from time to time
I am most afraid of what would constitute failure since it's yet to be defined.
My cubicle walls shy me from the other inmates leaving me momentary refuge
My request for solitary confinement is overruled by inbound order taking.

Learn more about this author, Patrick Marchildon.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.