The Workday

Shades of white and gray paint the inside of a stale, transient building.
The stark, crisp boundaries drawn hold life in frozen space.
Cold, dead air creeps from the ventalation and stifles creativity in its wake.

Time stops on the outside world; only the memories of the workers live on.
Each new string of life breaks free for an instance, dances around the watercooler,
and struggles to survive in a stagnant world.

Warm memories frozen for the workday
paused until the final bell rings and the mass exodus ensues.
There the outside world resumes and the present plays again.

The stale, transient building is left behind as night falls.
Lights are dimmed as shades of white and gray fade to black;
then waits in idleness to steal the next day.

-Rebekah Faith

-Rebekah Faith