Work stress blues
The sky blackened behind him
As we talked about buses
Metal beasts of burden
Trundling through London.
I'm comfortable with buses
They are familiarity friendly,
Cheerful vehicles I rely on.
I return to my desk
The window gapes onto blackness and
The traffic's hiss and rumble
The work on my mind is nothing like buses
Nor familiar, nor reassuring
It's a cats cradle of tangles
loose strings slipping through fingers
That feeling of losing, of being overwhelmed.
The problem is simple the solution easy
But the how we get there, in complete chaos
Populated with conspiracies,
Egos jostling, misdirection and cunning
A labyrinthian nightmare of mythical proportion
I can't get my head around, so the panic is rising.
At times like this
I could give up completely
Do something easy
Something not about disability
Something not about society
Something not about change
But if I do something simple
Something easy I know for a fact
I'll only get bored.
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