That familiar sound,

exasperation seeping in,

emanating that eerie chime.

It is time to subscribe,

to my demise

My phone reeks of weekend,

reminders, emails, and voicemails,

perpetual echoes in my mind.

Constantly repressing rage,

they say I’m fine.

Fill myself with protein, pills, and other poisons,

obey fitness magazine,

just try not to whine.

Walk out the door,

abandon my dreams,

there’s no rewind.

I give up on this stanza,

(insert end rhyme).

I will never break free,

this will never end.

As long as it’s Monday,

I’ll play pretend.