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i quit!

you milk my brains to remedy
     your dark, anaemic greed  
you plagiarise my passions, claim  
     my mileage as your speed  
flying on feathers cruelly plucked  
     from my declining wings  
my tired shoulders giant perch  
     from whence you stage your flings  
   
today i take my intellect  
     you shall not milk me dry  
i snatch my wing wind—sorry sight  
     you plummet from the sky  
enough is enough when politics  
     has marred your cunning wit  
she picks her teeth and as you phartz  
     triumphantly i quit!  
   
© Copyright 2018 August 3  
by Clyve A. Bowen
Author's Note
I wrote this piece as an entry for the fed-up-with-your-job competition. I cannot say it is full of angst in the raw sense normally expressed by those who contemplate the subject, but it is my (perhaps not so) subtle interpretation of taking my brains back when I feel exploited on the job with little or no recognition.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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