The Daily Grind

Erosion in my mind, like being imprisoned in a canyon…
Ain’t nothing grand about it, except my two companions.
But for most of the day I’m alone, just me and a screen of pixels…
Tryin ta make long dollars by utilizing worn, cerebral utensils.
I’ve been working for so long, since 11, well, now I’m 34…
Everything from mowin yards ta huntin heads, and still it’s all a bore.
At times I’m a saviour, ta scope domes means putting peeps ta work…
Cuz when ya unemployed with family and bills, ya can easily go berserk.
It’s gratifying, I guess, when a man says, “you saved my life”…
Cuz he knows another month on the couch woulda cost him his kids and wife.
That helps, cuz when it happens I feel less abrasion from my daily grind…
But most days it leaves a taste in my mouth like catchin Socko from Mankind.
Entwined, are my feelings of rebellion and aggression, for here I’m trapped…
Angry that I can’t get paid for chillin, playin with my kid, and writin raps.
Forlorn cuz when I wake up, I don’t wanna leave the arms of my lady…
But I need to cuz at Christmas, there’s gotta be presents under the tree.
And there won’t be, if I fail ta man up everyday and hit my office hard…
I work for myself, my own boss, I ain’t punchin no one’s time card.
So any fuckups are on my head, the weight of that thought could snap a neck…
Failing can’t be an option, my wife and baby depend on my check.
So I hit the daily grind with a passion, but it’s the passion ya save for a whore…
No real heart in it, but cum hard everytime, and make sure I leave tha bitch sore.

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Merkings will occur Monday thru Friday, 8 am thru 5 pm, C.S.T.
For my convenience, not yours!