I started the idea for this one at work.  The first couple of stanzas are pretty much about me being at work, and it being the early morning and being dead tired and wishing I could go home after everyone else had left and there was only a handful of souls left in the building, and having to listen to all this damned music that they never turned off.  And then somehow, as I began working through the poem, the idea became a bit distorted, probably because I had just seen Robocop a few days earlier and it stuck with me a little.  So I moved a bit away from the concept of describing how horrid it was to be at work when everyone else was already at home or out having fun, places only I wished I could be.  I wasn't really pleased actually with how the poem was turning out until I reached the last stanza and I started out with the idea of a broken promise, which made me recall the themes from Robocop and all that jazz.  So I started thinking maybe the point of the poem wasn't so much that work sucked, but that life had become a broken promise, or a series of such.  So it became then that I was this machine whose sole purpose was to do this assigned job, this job that I hated that no one else wanted to do, but the more I did it, the more I became hated for it and the more it made my so-called life even worse.  I still don't really feel satisfied with this one so much and I can't really figure out why, but I'm working on it.  This one is fairly simple.