Photo credit-theepochtimes.com
CITY
It’s 4:44, I mustn’t sleep any more
Gotta rise early before I head out the door
Play catch up online, dress and eat
Hurry, hurry hustle to hit the street
Hop the train in the pouring rain
Commuting to the city is a royal pain
Crammed on the subway to get to my block
Still, I run late as I spot a clock
Push through the crowds, past towers of stone
Umbrella breaks, I’m chilled to the bone
Ride the elevator stories up
Run to the break room to fill up my cup
Dash to my desk to begin my work
As assistant to the assistant accounting clerk
I gaze out sealed windows as the hours drag by
Invisible in this city, I stifle a cry
I’m betting something better waits for me
As I type my resignation with a smidgen of glee
This cold, hard city I will not take anymore
I marched out the door at 4:44
Photo credit-geofffox.com
Donna L Sadd 
Awesome. My head was spinning and I laughed as I read it three times. LOL Have a great day.
Thanks Sherry. Would you believe, I woke up at 4:44 and just had to do something with that number. As a New Yorker, not an accountant though, I’m well aware of what that commute is like.
It is weird how that happens sometimes. I visited there many times when I lived in Rochester New York. A great and fun city, but I really wouldn’t want to live there. As I have gotten older, I like a slower pace. ^_^
Same here, but I do miss the plays and symphony, and well, the restaurants, and….:0)
Great and funny and sad poem. Very accurate in times.
I liked that, Donna!
Thanks Gerri! :0)
Great poem, Donna!
I used to commute to London every day and the journey was just as you described. I soon became disenchanted with the daily grind of London and as much as I loved the city, I sought a job closer to home. Your words brought back loads of memories! 🙂
Thanks Carlie! Just think, if you never made that change, the world wouldn’t have HEART SEARCH: LOST & the books that will follow. I, for one, am glad! :0)
I love visiting the city (mine is San Francisco) but I can’t imagine commuting on a daily basis. I might just kill me. 🙂
Linda
http://ulleseit.wordpress.com
http://flyinghorsebooks.wordpress.com
It looks lovely, but those hills always scare the heck out of me! Thanks for popping in Linda! :0)
Yeah, nothing’s worse than driving up so far the road disappears beneath you as it starts down the other side before your car does.
🙂
OM freaking G! That does it; I guess I’ll have to appreciate the city through photos only. :0)
It’s wonderful how sometimes a poem comes to us, isn’t it – almost proof enough that muses might just exist. Great poem as everyone’s said 🙂
& San Francisco’s not all that bad if you’re not the one behind the wheel… you can close your eyes, & the center is fairly flat!
Many writer friends talk of their muses, but I’ve yet to meet mine. Though yesterday’s poem indeed flew out of my fingers, hmmm perhaps?
Re San Fran, I’ll say it in my Brooklyn accent-fagedaboudit! :0)
I’m not sure about meeting a muse, but I have had a few moments when poetry just seemed to write itself, which is always fantastic 🙂
Good Brooklyn accent haha.
It’s funny, I recently read a blog post where the writer suggested writing a letter to ‘your’ muse inviting her/him in, address it to some wild address, put a stamp on it and mail it!
That sounds like a fun idea! Even if you weren’t to send the letter, but how interesting would it be to find a new ‘muse’ that way? And maybe a pen-pal 😉