Rotten Circle of life (poetry)

I rot.

Blue screens and blue boxes with white tables separated by blue sky. White and blue. Pure and free. But like the old sign on the freeway, all cracked and faded, promising a world of hearts desire. It's false.
Security. Dependancy. "Steady job". "We all have to work".
Work?
it's 9 to 5. Its doing something you don't like, for money you don't want so that you can buy things you don't need.
sleep.
groan.
wipe gunk from eyes. Maybe a tear to.
busy yourself with traffic and the rat race.
Busy yourself all day. Alas don't look content. Or lazy.
Busy.
Rat race home.
Fight for food, the supermarket holding us ransom.
Buy more stuff you don't need. Kill that body slowly.
Busy make dinner. The quicker the better.
5 hours of television. Relaxing right? Club the brain dead, with a remote.
Stay up late, dreading the next day.
Look at beautiful things created in this world. Wonder. Appreciate.
Bed.
Dream of blue and white for there is no escape. Merely the promise of repetition.