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The Messy Life of a Cleaning Workaholic

Poem

By Lisa ToltonPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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When your job just takes over your life and causes a mess. It’s especially bad, if you can’t clean up your own mess. By: Lisa Tolton 

I wake up,

In these four walls again and again

The sunlight revealing the mess that keeps piling up.

Inside I silently complain.

I’m barely home but when I am, it looks like a foreign place.

My family are more strangers than the people I am forced to converse with on a daily basis.

Walking around my workplace with a fake smile on my face.

Pretending this is my own oasis.

This isn't always how I used to be…

Before I didn't have a set time to be anywhere or do anything.

I was free, but now I work harder than a busy bee.

I feel like I'm suffering from a bee sting.

Cleaning is such a meaningless task

If only life was less of a mess...

That's all I ask

its impossible for people to clean up after themselves, that’s where I come in handy, I guess?

All the work is done

I sleep in my room

The moon replaces the sun

Only for work to resume.

I wake up,

in these four walls again.

sad poetry
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