Cold-hushed, there is only the shifting of moments,
After misty rain in the cab;
Before Day’s rain begins again.
The business man waits for the day’s task
While Boss sends another Boss, that doesn’t care.
Working away for half a day
He doesn’t like vacuums, as they are too loud
A laborer prefers the broom, as he starts in an empty room
Not wanting to talk he checks his pocket radio
Dead as he expected,
With spearmint and sawdust;
Lemon tea and man in the ceiling,
The one fishing on the wall.
When the lunch yell came around,
He found himself alone,
Giving his company to the lonely room around him.
Silently, the businessman checks
The empty mailbox for nothing
He’ll never see the job finished, just a memory of the day
He thinks to be done at two, maybe four, or six,
But the Boss returns to drill holes in the wall.
Sweeping the dust that they would put back,
Looking out the windows for a friend, But the overtime will do.
When the day starts to close;
The electricians go home.
And the office is a little more quiet.
But his mind’s a little louder,
Knowing that home’s coming,
He works even harder.
With all the files filed, put into place,
Each alphabetized and sparkling clean.
The business man hails another cab, and tells the driver to take him back