Mediocre Life
Tick tock, tick tock.
The days keep marching on.
I get up for work at six o’clock.
The days feel awfully long.
I wish some days for things to stop.
My life I feel I pawn.
My employer sees me an awful lot.
But for my family I long.
This is the routine I sought.
But I barely see the dawn.
All day my work I wrought.
And then the day is gone.
Day by day I do my work,
The very best I can.
The monotonousness I seem to irk.
I want to serve my fellow man.
With the clock I slowly flirt.
Rarely will a promotion I land.
My muscles and my back hurt.
I’m barely lent a hand.
My work here is meaningless.
I am only pounding sand.
My purpose here is just a guess.
Yet I keep on working so I don’t get canned.
This job is going nowhere fast,
And the pay is much too low.
I don’t feel that this will last.
But no other options do I know.
It’s barely enough to survive on.
Let alone enough to thrive.
Our food is often all but gone.
But with little we abide.
Maybe with time a better job will appear,
That pays the bills easily.
I hope that day is near.
But nothing in the future I see.
So, I continue with my mediocre life.
I work from dawn till dusk.
With pride I work with little strife,
Because success dictates I must.
I feel I work away my days,
But for my family I provide.
I’d greatly much prefer to laze,
But on to work I ride.
So, I’ll serve with integrity,
And do my very best.
I’ll hope that others my work will see.
And on weekends I can rest.
Someday maybe this will all make sense.
As I wear away my days.
With the time that I am lent.
I’ll seek some sort of praise.
If that praise comes from up above,
I’ll take it with pride for a job well done.
I’ll continually serve with ample love.
With steadfastness like that of The One.
He will help me day to day,
To get through what I must.
So back off to work I’ll stay,
Until the day I bust.
In the end I want to hear His praise,
For a life well spent.
And even in the mediocracy of my days,
I’m fully service bent.
To serve with pride and humbleness,
Seems contradictory.
But may His love and tenderness,
Shine throughout my story.
At my employment may I share His love,
With my acquaintances at my work.
And though my lot I sometimes want to shove,
My duties I won’t shirk.
While my lot seems awfully pointless,
I can still serve my Master there.
Which gives meaning to the meaningless,
And His love may I share.
©2024 Stephanie Blomquist
