A reflection on what it is to be a hamster on someone else’s wheel, or a bird in one of Skinner’s boxes

I am disenchanted, of late -
Tired of both love and hate.
Façade, transparent;
Motives, too, apparent.
Trapped in the OCC -
The Skinner Box, you and me.
Fast and furious, our dreck
We hunt and peck,
But now, for less and less reward
Brandishing a pen; imagining a sword.
Desperate for the poison pellet, sweet
Release. The “Walking Dead”…