Clock in, clock out — the same old chain,
A paycheck bought with quiet pain,
Dreams filed down by deadlines near,
Freedom fades more every year.
Meetings hum in recycled air,
Buzzwords fly, but no one cares,
Smiles are masks for tired eyes,
As purpose wilts and passion dies.
The years drift by in coffee stains,
Promotions come, but so does strain,
We work and work, then just comply —
Till suits applaud the day we die.
The Enlightenment Project 
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