A Man Climbs Into My Taxi
A man climbs into my taxi.
The arm he used to waved me down was long and weary.
His eyes seemed to weigh heavier than what was on his mind.
His hair was receding and thinning
while turning the same grey as the sky.
He wore the stubble of an overnight hangover
but getting drunk off of 9-5.
He sported a grey suit that clung to his skeleton
like overalls on a scarecrow,
while his red tie wish it were tighter around his neck.
The posture he lacked was a result of a low quality office chair
that held him up for the years he believed he was happy.
He hunched over his laptop
completing the report his boss asked for just an hour ago.
This man asked to go back to the office.
I almost wanted to refuse.
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