Death at the Cubicle

Cubicle
Cubicle

I was living a life,

Sufficient enough to bake an apple pie,

From time to time I drank Guinness and not to bad of a Wine,

But when I am at work,

I do calls at a cubicle and it feels better than

Being worker,

Or a builder,

Or a carpenter,

Not as efficient but still better.

And when I die,

I will die at a cubicle and when I am in heaven

There will be no cubicles

But neither constructions too,

There would be me watching down on Earth,

Watching humans die their deaths at cubicles too.

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