Industrial lights glare obtrusively above narrow hallways,
Cajoling folk to speak through hob-nailed glass,
Deterring shadows from making their presence known.
Cubicles stand neatly in uniform rows
As masses divulge their identical tales.
A single bulb breaks the monotony,
Laughing through its fleery flicflac
As it watches the crowds pass by.
It glows for a moment
As the moths dance around
Before blinking,
Dying and rekindling in an instant.