Ink & Interruptions

Leaves fall, the winds chill

One by one they file in

To desks and chairs

Places my ghosts have been

My heart exposed

With my words, thoughts, and actions

The passion clear

Though never enough to replace their distractions

Each task given with care

Every lecture filled with my directions

Yet my requests are quickly discarded

Piled high in a bin with no room for reflections

Work submitted, work returned

A flame sure to be ignited

Searing to touch, filled with indignation

Somehow the source never properly cited

The story unfolds

So I assume my role

The villain, the bad guy

An antagonist keeping them from their goal

Their words, their thoughts

Flung on bathroom walls

My thoughts, my words

Crumpled into tiny balls

As I continue, so do they

The loudest voices crying out

Filling the space in my mind

My brain screams lies, but the soul still dies

My passion stifled

But I keep pushing through

My heart still exposed

Spring comes, so I enter on cue

Fearful, the cycle begins anew

Flowers bloom and hope grows

New faces, but how will this story go?

This, this job that I chose