fast food manager: a poem

in the realm of fluorescent lights, I am crowned,
a fast-food monarch, overseeing a realm of grease.
my domain a symphony of sizzling patties,
and the aroma of fried sustenance fills the air.

behind the counter, I stand, a lone sentinel,
in a uniform that blends with the monotony of routine.
the flurry of orders, a ceaseless torrent,
as time scurries past like rodents in the night.

oh, the burden of this ephemeral authority,
to wield power over nuggets and french fries,
while dreams are chewed and swallowed whole,
in the hurried gulps of hurried lives.

I am the conductor of this discordant orchestra,
directing the motions of cashiers and cooks,
but my baton feels heavy in these hands,
and the symphony descends into cacophony.

do the walls of my kingdom contain me,
or am I merely a prisoner of my own creation?
as I gaze upon the rows of uniformed faces,
I wonder, am I their ruler or their captive?

in this fast-food fiefdom, time devours all,
and the rhythm of the drive-thru becomes my heartbeat.
I am trapped in a cycle of sameness and repetition,
yearning for meaning beyond the domain of grease-stained aprons.

(DISCLAIMER: this poem was written with the help of ai. just to be upfront, lol)