Working Girl
She gets up each morning to
go to a job she doesn’t like.
Boredom spikes at around 10
When she realises she still
has hours to go.
Time slows
And every tick of the clock
Feels like a pause………..
Is she did what she loved
Her job would never be a chore.
A poem about jobs by Ms Moem.
This is poem 28 of my daily poem project.
This is post 98 of 100 blogs in 100 days.
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