In echoing halls, a metal tray,
A clinking symphony at the end of the day.
Free lunch, a beacon, a corporate plea,
To keep us working, happy, and key.
But is it truly free, this midday fare?
Or a subtle hook, a loyalty snare?
The minutes tick by, a silent cost,
As lunchtime socializing becomes work at most.
Sandwiches piled high, a salad so green,
But thoughts of deadlines paint a different scene.
A hurried bite, a stolen glance,
Back to the grind, a programmed trance.
Perhaps it's a kindness, a break from the strain,
A chance to connect, to ease work's domain.
But freedom it lacks, that precious release,
For a shadowed pressure hangs, never at peace.
So we savor the flavors, both bitter and sweet,
Of a lunch that's convenient, yet never complete.
For the true cost of freedom, it cannot replace,
And the weight of our purpose hangs heavy in this space.
About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
Comments (1)
They always give free lunches instead of giving a raise or promotions though.