Painful Pleasure

In the grind of the daily race, Smiles painted on every face, They labor in chains unseen, A cog in a broken machine. Pleasure’s a word on a distant shore, But survival demands much more. Bitter the fruit that feeds their soul, In a world where dreams take a toll. They swallow the pain with a grin, Playing a game they can’t win. But in the night, when all is still, They taste the freedom, just a pill.