I am a writer stuck in a cube,
visions of happiness silently subdued.
My bored right-brain soundly sleeps,
startled awake when the fax machine beeps.
I stand at the copier mulling over my dreams,
escape’s my only hope, or so it seems.
I hear the ringing of the telephone,
while my heart yearns only to be left alone.
While stuck in a cube from nine to five,
my creativity aches to be alive.
I strive for an office with a door,
will that undoubtedly valuate me more?
I try to evoke creative energies,
gasping for insight in doldrums seas.
I realize that life in a cubicle for me,
is not as rewarding as I’d hoped it would be.
~Tara Payne Steele