04: The Dining Hall

Every morning before every work day begins,

I sit in the dining hall as I wait for the bell to ring.

Signaling the start of the toiling and sweating,

In the greasy lines where we toil with our soul's strengths.

Enjoying the partial seclusion the dining hall brings.

Letting my mind wander on thoughts, sad to lofty.

Unconsciously observing the other toilers as they, 

Engage in gossips, which I disdain with all my heart and soul.

So in the dining hall I sit and wait,

For the bell to ring and for me to go.

To start toiling in the greasy lines where I seem fit,

Which my mind is always contradicting so.