When life gets hard
And the noon is high
And your eyes are sore and red.
Your jammed head hurts,
And you’d like to drop work –
Take a much-needed break instead.
But the workplace code
Makes you drag at the load
Till you get to your assignment’s end.
It is then, at this hour
When life’s stale and sour
That you need your 11 a.m. friend.
At the back of your mind
Through all the hot grind
Continuous and calm plays a song.
As you stare at the screen
There’s a smile on your lip
A madness to keep you strong.
You wipe off the grime
As you think on the crime
That grows quiet, resolute and stark.
Even stars will cower
When at night’s blind hour
Your bare blade will find its mark.
Beneath the crisp attire
Burns a darkling fire
The bland smile hides a mocking sneer.
These people all about,
Working day in and day out
Their absolution lies in fear.
So you run your fingertip
Along the thirsty lip
Of the ever-loyal blade you keep.
Soon it will be dark again
Like a sheltering rain
You will walk the town’s streets as they sleep.