another monday

it was hard
to pretend to be interested
in jobs
that you didn't want.
sitting stiffly
in a blue suit
in a chair
across the desk from a serious
person reading
your folder of
feathered
accomplishments.
you knew that they knew
that you weren't
a fit.
that deep down inside,
past the shined
shoes,
the resume,
the blather that you
charmingly spoke
that you didn't really
want to work there,
but you did. you signed up,
and Monday came,
then another.
it took years to break free.
you tried to fool them,
tried to fool
yourself, but it didn't
work.