Fatalism

The lighter’s scritch

Scratches the itch

Of yet another

Nicotine hit

So I flick the switch

And cross the stitch

On yet another day

I didn’t quit

Work

Well I
guess
there’s
nothing
else for it

Three hours
left wading
through
this
bullshit

Perhaps I
should
hand in
my notice
and quit

At least
then that
would be
the end
of it