Diligence

[Dark Muse]

The next installment of the Dark Side of Virtue


Diligence

Grind fingers
to the bone
he does not even see
his family slipping away.

All the hours locked
inside the office
chained to the desk
for every second
every minute
something to be
achieved.

Not even taking
a moment to breathe
not a millisecond
to be wasted.

Idle hands they
say lead to evil deeds
so he plunges onward.

Coffee mugs
and cigarette ashes
pile up to keep the
body in perpetual motion.

Ulcers from on top
of ulcers, but sleep is
for the dead.

Life must be a
constant string
of tasks to preform
and complete.

[Buh4Bee]

I somehow wish you could bring the poem back to this workaholic man when you conclude. However, I see the intention of your series of poems is to muse about the dark side of virtue (in this case diligence). The man is not your focus, but the the adverse effects on life of being to diligent. Still for the poem's sake, I think it would be more complete.

[Dark Muse]

Yes I can see what you are saying.

[hillwalker]

Great poem - but like jersea says, a line or two in the final stanza pointing back to the man with his nose still permanently fixed to that grindstone would round this off nicely