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ihatemyjob, minimumwage, poetryaboutlife, spokenwordpoetry, thejobmarket, theratrace, workingaretailjob, workingminimumwage, writingcommunity
I ask myself, “will I ever get onto a ladder?”
Will I ever get to a place where I could climb and
The height of my success is measured by my ability
And will
To proceed.
They say the problem with the rat race is
Whether or not you win, you are still a rat.
But I say,
At least, there is a chance to win.
It’s a race, so I can do it. I beat others and master the race.
But this,
This is not a race.
This is not a ladder, either.
There’s no going up. The only way is down
Every sunrise brings new hope, but the same experience.
Wake up. Do it again. No progress. No increasing.
I’d rather be a rat.
I’d rather the opportunity to increase and progress
Because this is not it.
This is not a rat race. It’s a hamster wheel.
Run as fast as you can. Put that motivation to good use; drain that positivity; be smart about it; be wise.
But
At the end
Of
The day
You are still in the same spot.
You haven’t gone anywhere.
So. This is not a race. We’re each in a hamster wheel
This wheel is the engine that keeps this factory running.
So now, I clock into my shift, thinking
I’d rather be a rat.
Sircharlesthepoet 