Some limericks for those who dread it
There once was a chore called the commute
My hatred for which is absolute
When the cars next to me
Honk and drive recklessly
My desire to cry is resolute.
Pain from the journey has just begun
You’re en route to see people you shun
In joined glass and steel blocks
You get stuck in a box
Without wanting to talk to no one
The sarcasm of working that way
Distraction always leads you astray
Your phone or your neighbor
Noise in the open floor
That is deep thinking squandered away
It is the price of moving quickly
Too fast for thinking best done slowly
The world’s starting over
We can’t run for cover
An excuse now moot is “I’m busy.”
