office

tired

feet sit on the grey patched carpet

silence cuts like a sword

clicks and taps, outdoor rush

winds a mad siren, feint in the background

taps turned on their own

tired

be alone on your own

bag under feet over

anger drilling a hole

mashed on a dinner plate

men crushed on the oily rope

girl froze by the dirty moat

madness

colour turned grey

white sapped out of your eye

madness

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