They placed her in their 8-hour office
numbed her soul as they closed the door
locking her in like a bird
in a cage, demanding it sing
to impress eager visitors.
She spun in their office chair
(without the excuse of childhood)
took their humdrum pen to command
tedious technical information, but
all that came to her was poetry.
When they returned later to see
how she got on with their work,
they found an empty chair
spinning indifferently, and
marveled at her disappearance.
She found their tasks a
prosy impossibility, you see,
and she angered at the sheepish
nature of time, the clock
that couldn’t quite keep up.
So rather than wait time out
she inhaled tasty breaths of
otherworldly air, clicked her heels together
and disappeared indefinitely into her
ravenous imagination.
Some call it red 
Well written. May peace be with you 🙂
and you 🙂
Beautifully written account of both what it is like to be an office drone and the feeling of being free of it. Love your work!
thank you so much xo
I liked the whole thing especially the play on the word “Sheepish”. and the impression of being locked in your office but escaping Houdini like in to your imagination.
🙂 sometimes I wish I could literally escape like Houdini.
I love this thought. How cool. Thank you for sharing
Thank you for reading 🙂
Beautiful; you captured the 8 hour office day well. I like the escape part especially.
Thank you xo
Nice! 🙂 Impressive and powerful as always. Peace . . .
I’d say ‘She’s got the right shoes to get her through the night’ She’s going overground now.
last stanza—’magnifique’
🙂
I’ve been ‘locked in’ an 8-hour humdrum office as well. Often escaped just like in the poem. Got fired for it too. You wrote it well.
I think getting fired wouldn’t be the worst thing in my case. Thanks for reading 🙂
Wonderful.
here I sit at my desk and see myself in that chair
Ohh, just beautiful…and oh my, how I can relate! I just left a soulless job like this. True creatives just aren’t long for such things! Love your writing…thank you for sharing!