cold tea.

the fan turns

above my

head, barely

moving the air.

somehow it cools

my tea before i

can finish a cup.

from where i sit

i can see titans

of industry, slowly

sipping their

drinks as they

discuss novel ways

to take advantage

of the workforce.

i watch, believing,

no.

knowing they have

not a care

in the world.

let’s trade places,

assholes,

so you know

what pain is,

what anguish feels

like, then we’ll

trade again, and

we’ll see if any

of us smile.

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