Out, but in a different way.

I wrote the following slam poem a few years ago after I made my finally escape from corporate America. As I approach my last days of CPE, I found the words from three years ago to be nearly prophetic.

OUT

Confidence… that’s just my fears tuned inside out
As I masquerade as if I have no doubts.
I run through life seeking shelter from the fallout…
Looking for a break. Stop! Can I call a time out?
From the corporate money that stalks me like a stakeout.
Or should I holdout?
I’m too afraid, I can’t escape, maybe I should I just sellout…
Like when I was a good kid and swallowed all my sauerkraut.
With a bad taste in my mouth, the chase has left me worn-out, burned-out, washed-out, sure could use some whiteout.
Stop that you say, someone may see me pout? Or is that just a copout…
I want bailed-out, or I may just breakout before I get forced-out.
Or maybe I’ll just fade-out and go and hang-out,
Or better yet hide out.
Where no one can find me whose looking for a payout…
Ah, what the hell… I’ll just walkout…
Soon I’ll just fade-out, like some one whose has been phased-out…
like lights out during a blackout.
No more tryouts or strikeouts,
So there’s no chance of a shut out.
I’m too worn-out to attempt a sellout
I don’t even care if there’s a turnout.
So don’t freak out, or think I’m too far out,
Nor do I mean to taut or attempt to sound devout.
It’s just time for me to close out, before I completely flame out.
Like a good scout, I think I’d rather go give a handout
Maybe I’ll put out to the down-and-out and drop-outs,
Those wiped-out, checked-out, locked-out, washed-out, those with no clout
Those without.
Rick 4-12-01