The Monotonous

Waking up early every morning,
I get up and find myself running,
To catch the bus to go to office,
And rush to the lifeless edifice.

This has been my duty for so long,
And I reach there just before the gong,
Strikes with its roaring metallic noise,
That makes me loose my poise.

The day is always hectic,
With the hours of work being erratic,
I have no choice but to comply,
With the rules they employ.

When I have time to free my brains,
I think of ways to break the sprains,
That is inflicting innumerable pains,
And my imagination is in taints.

Like a bridled horse running on a busy road,
I shout my distress like a hungry toad,
Waiting for a slithering snake to hear,
And gobble me up to solve my grievances, forever.