Poem-A-Day: Day 579

The Constant Pain

Those same two feet stepping on my toes
in idiotic, uncontrollable movements
looking out curtailed concepts of reality.
The convoluted overblown shift
is a constant punch-card blowing it out
and leaving the workday uninhibited.

The two feet are always at my heels
like the back of broken shoes digging deep
and bleeding skin away slowly.
It’s an unending pain that’s worthy
of ignoring until it dies a painful death:
stoicism will be the only word left.