"Open Sesame!"

To drag your butt up the high-rise

You take to the elevator,  but you   little surmise

The machine trundling worse than your creaking bones

Its tracts sounding in grave baritones

Ah you step in with the hope of speedy dispatch

Ere long you are stuck in the slowness of a snail-snatch

Imagine, being caught in a time-warp

Everything freezed,  on the time lost, you could less harp?

I have no time to ponder

Or the patience to wonder

Sniffing the cocktail of smells in an elevator

the madding crowd within, as distrait as strangers

need I endure such a ride, whatsoever?

You anticipate the total black-out

The abrupt halt, to send you reeling, no doubt

Even worse is coming to a standstill

With the peeved pet or the sulking snob,

Their unstoppable utterances,

would you dope them with a pill?

The ordeal is never over

When, it stops finally, the elevator ejects with rancour

for the obstinate doors to wrest open

should I spell “Open sesame”

or be  caved in, in despair, this machine ever in a state drunken?

Phew, the machine seems to elevate all right

Your state of being, under duress, no slight

Yet you emerge as the sage unruffled,

Whose ordeal, with the devil unduly shuffled

And yet you gravitate to the contraption, saving on your energy

Or would it be piling on your ever laid-back lethargy?

You would not mind hopping in again for the ride

For dragging your butt up those storeys,  

that’s indeed a task

you would rather shrug aside?