Grey

Everything is gray
In the office
The silent workers but for
The clip-clap sound of the keyboard
The set faces
And the changing windows
On the monitor
Why spend most of the day
In the dreary and drab place
While the sun shines bright
And the leaves and the grass
and the birds beckon thee
Unconditional
To come out and share
The joys of nature
So full of colour
That even the greying sky
Forms a giant canvas
To forms eternal
While the aching back
And clouded mind
The struggling worker
Chained to function
Imprisoned
In a hole on the earth
When the vistas await
The return of leisure
To pastures green
And windy willows
Why, oh why, do
We ensconce ourselves
Inside closed walls
When living is living
In the open
Under the bare sky
Beside a brook
Gazing at the sky
Instead we browse
In the murky depths
Of power and position
Of wine and wealth
It is all so gray
Here down under
The walls are closing in
Life is ebbing out
Grey to grey
The colour deepens
Until it is black
Indistinguishable.

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