Work Poem by Susan T. Aparejo

Work,
Someone said “ work is slavery”
I nod in full admiration
It won’t fill my box of jewelry,
Require my full attention,
Though the prize alluring salary.

Work curtails one’s freedom,
Glued to a place when you step one,
Leave your home at start of dawn,
Entering another world of fund,
For family’s survival at glance.

Slavery is work, a designed of artwork,
A routinary field of office book,
Bundy clock is the human’s look,
Will tell if you’re at your nook,
Work is really a slavery with bankbook.