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At 6am, I'm miserable. Time to get out of bed, move my behind, Clock in for $7.25 at the daily grind, Eight hours for this is fucking criminal. At noon, I'm finally awake.
Don’t ask me what I want to be I probably won’t answer I have been conditioned to reply A simple “I don’t know”
As I stood there silently waiting, I already began to feel their eyes on me, As if a blinking light sat upon my head, Blinking, flashing, blaring. With every glance and every whisper,