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Weary Works

“Do your job!” they say, endlessly,
As I work relentlessly,
Beads of sweat brimming my forehead,
I’ve been pushed to my limits; I feel as though I’ll drop dead!

Contribution, confusion, exclusion, delusion,
The beginning and our input affects the end,
We must protect the finale at all costs for it cannot fend,
For itself, it solely depends on our hope, its existence,
Will give us a better life, so we must provide assistance.

But progress? Isn’t it risky?
Like unleashing a fire, fierce and frisky,
Opening the doors possibilities which were locked only by the keys of fear,
Which will lead to our Eden future, so sincere.

Unfortunately, I can’t stop what I'm doing, I'm a piece of this puzzle,
I keep my head down and say nothing for I have a muzzle,
Keeping me shut, putting me in place,
Because I'm a pawn in this game, one which changes apace.

I do not want to be replaced though the possibility is real,
I'm stuck in this very terrifying ordeal,
No one can save me, not even myself,
So I’ll stay silent, like one of the many books on a shelf.

Unless I dare to speak,
But no, I wouldn’t dare, I'm too weak,
The thought of replacement scares me too much,
To ever dare of doing something my way, anything of such.

By Shreya Ramanan 10L