Slumber,
But never forget to awake.
We stand tall,
But sit fast asleep
All the while,
Neither sitting nor standing
For too long.
Nay,
Not even a little while.
Our bodies are restless,
But our days are filled with opportunity of rest.
A nine to five
Is hardly but the beginning
To our day
To survive.
We squander and squabble,
But no longer can we afford
The ride.
We ride along,
Humming along,
Singing along,
But the tune we sing
Is not the song we live,
But the one we wish to be living.
A part of our world
Is not the one our friends and foes see,
But instead,
The not-so-picturesque moments
Of the real me that I never wanted to
Seek.
