Exit

I worked for this seat
the one I thought meant I made it.
Traded sleep for charts,
held bags too long,
watched green dreams turn red.

My portfolio once felt like purpose.
Now it just reminds me
how far I’ve drifted.

Success? Numbers on a screen.
The chair? Just a symbol
of everything I sacrificed.

One day, you realize
you’re not climbing anymore,
you’re stuck.

And sometimes,
the only way forward
is to leave
everything you built
behind.