Big Mister

Slave to the whistle. Dwelling in the black smoke. Walking on the conveyor. Marching to the clanks of the cogs. Sweat on the brow form the florescent sun. Comfortable in the routine of the grunt. Big Mister screams, we scramble. Lift this, move that, run there, report here. Big Mister, please numb the pain. Give me more orders. Make my vision more blurred. Let me get lost in your exhaust fumes as I quietly black out. Then as I wake up please let me repeat. I live for you Big Mister. Let me give you all that I am. Let me give you my children to take my place when I don't wake. Please love them as you have loved me.....

 

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