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By Meher Randeria

Another day,

Another drag.

How I’d love to be gay!

But it doesn’t seem to fit in the bag.

Coffee coursing through my veins,

A robot sprinting out the door.

Needing to win in the game,

Lest I’d be done for.

Copies on copies,

Sitting still, fingers dancing.

A ghost singing the harmonies,

Along with the feet tapping.

One in a million

Hits different,

When you’re a minion

And the work’s constant.

Coming home

At the end of the day.

Wishing to be in Rome.

Oh, how I’d love to be gay!

Swallowing my pride,

Passing out to Nine-nine,

Staying along for the ride:

I swear I’m fine.

By Meher Randeria

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