Florescent bulbs all lined up in a row, I do not like you.
My eyes burn from your artificial intensity.
Shoulders slump, back curves, jaw tightens.
Is there real light out there?
Will the Sun still be up when I leave your ever watchful presence over me?
Do those windows open?
Am I the only one craving the light of the Sun?
Florescent bulbs I believe you are some sort of brainwasher
My colleagues work diligently behind their desks, no windows opened, shades drawn
Clack clacking, chat chat chatting, click clicking along
Florescent bulbs you torment me
I count the hours til I see the Sun
7 more to go