The Act That Kills

Act like you don't care.
Act like it doesn't matter,
the way you walk around
promoting your cling and clatter.

Sit there and mock
my simple cubicle life
and the turmoil I withstand
in my everyday life.

Treat me like I'm a clown
doing my unicycle tricks for you
as if I were a cellar-dwelling piece of trash
discarded by your elite few.

Mock me even further
by throwing flowers on my coffin
like you do to all like me,
like you do so often.

Sit there in victory,
smoking your Cuban cigar,
basking in your glory
that has taken you so far.

But let me know what happens
when you lie your head down
and hear the ghosts you've created
that now haunt and surround.

Lie there in your mental
padded cell you've created for yourself
and think if it was all worth it
while you wait for your destiny in hell.



I previously stated that not every poem would include an explanation but I thought this one was kind of cool.  A friend at work gave me a friendly challenge, wondering if I could write a poem with 4 random words he gave me.  I was intrigued and took his challenge and I will be with future poems as well.  These four words here were cubicle, unicycle, flowers, and Cuban...
...and sed friend greatly enjoyed it, too!