I lie awake at night 
Trying to figure out a way 
To get away from them
And there benefits
But poetry doesn’t pay 23/hr
And the bank won’t accept ideas for as mortgage payments
So I made a deal with the devil
And he’s holding me to it
They say slavery ended
But it just got smarter
Stopped thinking small
Turned cotton into customer service
Now slave songs are hushed by 401 K
Masta don’t need no whip
I makes the donuts everyday
And asks no questions
Because I know what being poor feels like
And anything is better
My chair started eating away at my back
I tried to jump off the third floor into freedom
The windows were made of plexiglass
A memo was on my desk
Corporate America now offers counseling
Company sponsored godsends that have records of your suicide attempts
Not happy working here
Corporate America wants to build bridges
By helping you be the best you, you can be
Even if that means sending you from here
Hope you find a nice place to find yourself
Get all those poems out of your system
Then find somewhere else to try again
Forty hours a week answering phones
And solving problems
Makes you wonder who you are
Corporate America knows
But they’re not telling
They dangled a plaque in my face for good work
I picked cotton til midnight the next day
Doctor said I was too sick to keep on this way
I explained I was too sick not to
He warned the cold will lead to infection if I don’t get rest
I explained I get rest twice a day for fifteen minutes each
Corporate America is plotting to kill me
And I think they may succeed
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