Procrastination

The ticking clock keeping time with the sound of my frustration
Three O'Clock and lethargy is the sickness of the Nation.
Counting down for two more hours before our time is up,
Tired eyes reflect the stains in the communal coffee cup.

Halogen strips illuminate my five by two foot world,
The novelty is lost from my USB hawaiian girl.
Incessant ticking of the clock, white to match white walls,
But, oh what that sweet angel sings! Now it's half past four!

Half an hour of tapping keys, of colleagues on the phone,
Thirty minutes left of the computer's creaking groan,
1800 seconds ... Wait! look how the time creeps on!
Twenty to five and counting - very soon I will be gone!

Time flies when you're having fun and stops behind a desk,
So cheap it even smells corporate; not wood, but MDF!
Emails, meetings, minutes, questions, more questions arise,
"I'll answer them tomorrow, I don't have the time tonight"

Flimsy door swings on it's hinges and I embrace the rain,
The air, the smell, the natual light; the world is real again.
To home, to sleep, well, insomnia, caused by the impending day...
To work, the clock, the tapping keys, washing my life away.