Ode to the Poet's Cubicle

Twice a day I go to work
And sit down in my cubicle
Here I can think undisturbed
And be self-therapeutical

Step inside and drop my bag
And throw the wall my coat to hug
Take a seat and grab a snack
And jot down thoughts of woe or luck

All my feelings I let loose
Within the confines of these walls
And I use them to produce
A piece of peace when chaos calls

That's the high point of my day
I look around and sigh in words
All that's outside locked away
Just me in here alone at work

Empty pages, silent air
The soil that big ideas grow in
Room to breathe, a single chair
Provide the tools to tweak and trim

Distant echoes, solitude
A contemplative state of mind
Homely walls, a mellow mood
Give shelter to the quiet kind

Yes, I love my office space
And have to thank it for so much
Never want I leave this place
– but before I do I flush