Chains of Chicken

Late shifts and frying wings,

Clock in, I hear my heart sing.

Greasy hands and endless calls,

Serving smiles through the busy halls.

Sunrise paints the sky so bright,

But here I am, morning to night.

The smell of spices fills the air,

Every day, it feels a little unfair.

Dreams of freedom dance in my mind,

But these bills don’t wait, they’re unkind.

With every order, I wish to flee,

Yet this pay is a lifeline for me.

Oh, chicken soul, can’t break these chains,

Behind the counter, I suppress my pains.

But I’ll keep on turning in my shift,

Even as my hopes feel adrift.

Customers come, and they rush on through,

I smile wide, but I feel so blue.

Counting down the hours, every tick’s a fight,

In this uniform, I dream at night.

I see the world through fryer grease,

Yearning for moments of sweet release.

From this apron that ties my dreams,

Wondering if I’ll find rare gleams.

Oh, chicken soul, can’t break these chains,

Behind the counter, I suppress my pains.

But I’ll keep on turning in my shift,

Even as my hopes feel adrift.

Maybe one day, I’ll find a way,

To soar above these trays and play.

Turn my dreams into something real,

But I know I must stand still and deal.

So here's to nights under fluorescent lights,

Grinding hard, chasing city sights.

Though I’m tired and weary tonight,

In this journey, I’ll find the light.