Prime Days

I see the boxes piling up

Waiting to be delivered

To houses, apartments businesses alike

There's seemingly no end in sight

I often wonder wonder what's inside these parcels

Cardboard marked with an ironic smile

The volume never seem to cease

The inflow makes me quite riled

Onward we go

In truck so slow

Upon our fleet of feet

It gives me time to stop and think...

Are these really the prime days for you and me?

Author's Note: first poem I've written directly inspired by my job. Definitely did not turn out how I initially had it in my head.