Reading mail, listening to Floyd on MP3
I lift my head up and look around
And notice that all the people are -

Subscribed to unhappiness
All in their cube’s
A soulless place

Trying to work,
Trying to concentrate,
Really trying – not really…

Little men & women all huddled up.
All in their respective offices
Like goldfish in their tanks.

Is this really how it should be?
Smashing into keyboards
Glaring intently at glass monitors

Another global e-mail arrives,
Suddenly in a scurry of action
They all congregate and interact

Glee and happiness
At another’s downfall
I’ve outlasted another as they strut around

Then, the mail flurry over
They walk back into their glass tanks
Back to their screens and keyboards to start again