In the depths of the internet, a corner we'll find,
Where voices against the grind of work, combined,
A sub-Reddit they call it, antiwork, their cry,
Against the drudgery of labor, they testify.
A place where the dissatisfied come to vent,
Against the monotony of the daily descent,
Where 9 to 5 feels like a prison sentence,
And work-life balance is an elusive remittance.
They speak of the lack of purpose and meaning,
Of the soul-sucking nature of office cleaning,
Where cubicles feel like cages, and bosses like guards,
And promotions, a carrot, just out of their cards.
The antiwork movement is not just laziness,
But a rebellion against capitalist craziness,
Of a world where profits reign over people,
And exhaustion and burnout, the inevitable sequel.
They ask, what's the point of it all,
Of sacrificing happiness, health, and recall,
For a system that values production over living,
And makes us forget the joy of just being.
So, to the antiwork sub-Reddit, we listen,
To the voices that dare to question and reason,
For maybe, just maybe, they hold a clue,
To a world where work is more than just a few.