Array ( [sid] => 186774 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Working for Free [time] => 2020-01-22 04:42:28 [hometext] => [bodytext] => How I love my cellphone, such amazing perks!
Technology, completely free, courtesy of work!
Im so flattered, doesn’t matter, and no one reminds me
that I will be eternally, right where they can find me.

Salaried has come to mean Im theirs week ends and nights.
They predicted, Im addicted, and by God they were right.
Cause everytime it calls me, I grab for it to see,
who is there, and what they want, I just can’t let it be.

I think Im indispenseable. The phones a badge Ive got.
Its paid for THEIR convenience, not mine - lest we forgot.
There is one way to prove it, if I can bring myself to do it:
Dont answer calls or texts at all after five oclock!!

Workers compensation needs a new directive
that pays us all when business calls, if that is what’s expected.
When lesser jobs go round the clock, they add a shift and staff.
But we’re told that our time’s our own--exactly when is that?

When phones had cords, they went ignored, while everyone went home!
Technologys a Trojan horse, we’ve lost our time alone.
Who I text, and who I call, and even who calls ME,
belong to corporate history, and Im an entity.
Day or night, they have the right to see my privacy.

Perhaps like vapes its gonna take a fake phone to inspire
a disconnect I dont suspect; an addicts pacifier.
If time is money, where’s ours honey? Speaking corporately,
Were undismayed to be unpaid - how lucky can they be? [comments] => 1 [counter] => 49 [topic] => 56 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => sarcasticpoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Working for Free


Working for Free
Date: Wednesday, 22nd January 2020 @ 04:42:28 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: softerware
How I love my cellphone, such amazing perks!
Technology, completely free, courtesy of work!
Im so flattered, doesn’t matter, and no one reminds me
that I will be eternally, right where they can find me.

Salaried has come to mean Im theirs week ends and nights.
They predicted, Im addicted, and by God they were right.
Cause everytime it calls me, I grab for it to see,
who is there, and what they want, I just can’t let it be.

I think Im indispenseable. The phones a badge Ive got.
Its paid for THEIR convenience, not mine - lest we forgot.
There is one way to prove it, if I can bring myself to do it:
Dont answer calls or texts at all after five oclock!!

Workers compensation needs a new directive
that pays us all when business calls, if that is what’s expected.
When lesser jobs go round the clock, they add a shift and staff.
But we’re told that our time’s our own--exactly when is that?

When phones had cords, they went ignored, while everyone went home!
Technologys a Trojan horse, we’ve lost our time alone.
Who I text, and who I call, and even who calls ME,
belong to corporate history, and Im an entity.
Day or night, they have the right to see my privacy.

Perhaps like vapes its gonna take a fake phone to inspire
a disconnect I dont suspect; an addicts pacifier.
If time is money, where’s ours honey? Speaking corporately,
Were undismayed to be unpaid - how lucky can they be?

This poem is Copyright © softerware


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