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Description
A Suit and a Name - a poem by Sean Denney

A Suit and a Name by karmicviolence

Beneath fluorescent skies where shadows wane,
The corporate stage unveils its practiced show.
Slick words like serpents slither and remain,

Their substance lost where plastic virtues grow.
The smiles they wear cling tight, not joy, but schemes,
In boardroom battles, fueled by gilded greed.
My own voice weaves its web within these teams,
Each calculated phrase fulfills a need.

Success breeds doubt, a worm within the brain.
Why should I thrive in this deceptive guise?
When every triumph bears a hidden stain,
And whispered deals replace the light of skies?
The climb is steep, yet further still I press,
The summit looms, ambition feeds my quest.

Within the ranks, I weave a swift ascent,
A master player in a rigged, cold game.
My tongue cuts sweeter when true meaning's spent,
Each hollow promise burns atop my fame.
The victories stack high, empty and frail,

Mirrored praise reflects the polished lie.
The higher perch lends views that make me pale,
The cost of winning makes the spirit die.

I sold my soul for this?
A suit and a name...

Beneath the tailored suit a conscience stirs,
A stifled heartbeat lost in power's rush.
The truth I muffle with persuasive blurs,
The human touch exchanged for gilded crush.
They speak of ethics, charts, and market share
My soul recoils, yet dares not to protest.
The gilded cage, though grand, holds bleak despair,
Where hollow laughter masks a troubled breast.

If there were fields untouched by greed's swift hand,
And open skies where honest words still rise,
Perhaps I'd leave this manufactured land,
Trade empty contracts for untarnished skies.
To find my footing far from boardroom wars,
Beneath the heavens, where the heart has room,
To build on values, not on rising scores,
And feel the earth, a truth that once did bloom.

But roots run deep, sunk in this gilded plight,
To walk away defies the years I've spent.
The path seems lost, hidden from judging sight.
And still I linger, though my spirit's bent.
The clock ticks by, each hour another sale,
And though I long, I know the will may fail.

Description
A Suit and a Name - a poem by Sean Denney

A Suit and a Name by karmicviolence

Beneath fluorescent skies where shadows wane,
The corporate stage unveils its practiced show.
Slick words like serpents slither and remain,

Their substance lost where plastic virtues grow.
The smiles they wear cling tight, not joy, but schemes,
In boardroom battles, fueled by gilded greed.
My own voice weaves its web within these teams,
Each calculated phrase fulfills a need.

Success breeds doubt, a worm within the brain.
Why should I thrive in this deceptive guise?
When every triumph bears a hidden stain,
And whispered deals replace the light of skies?
The climb is steep, yet further still I press,
The summit looms, ambition feeds my quest.

Within the ranks, I weave a swift ascent,
A master player in a rigged, cold game.
My tongue cuts sweeter when true meaning's spent,
Each hollow promise burns atop my fame.
The victories stack high, empty and frail,

Mirrored praise reflects the polished lie.
The higher perch lends views that make me pale,
The cost of winning makes the spirit die.

I sold my soul for this?
A suit and a name...

Beneath the tailored suit a conscience stirs,
A stifled heartbeat lost in power's rush.
The truth I muffle with persuasive blurs,
The human touch exchanged for gilded crush.
They speak of ethics, charts, and market share
My soul recoils, yet dares not to protest.
The gilded cage, though grand, holds bleak despair,
Where hollow laughter masks a troubled breast.

If there were fields untouched by greed's swift hand,
And open skies where honest words still rise,
Perhaps I'd leave this manufactured land,
Trade empty contracts for untarnished skies.
To find my footing far from boardroom wars,
Beneath the heavens, where the heart has room,
To build on values, not on rising scores,
And feel the earth, a truth that once did bloom.

But roots run deep, sunk in this gilded plight,
To walk away defies the years I've spent.
The path seems lost, hidden from judging sight.
And still I linger, though my spirit's bent.
The clock ticks by, each hour another sale,
And though I long, I know the will may fail.