Top most floor, third tower of a castle
A morning gasps, catching up with the mad bustle.
Mulishly, I turn the other side in my bed
Sigh! Another jet just test-flew on the top of my head.
Mercifully, a strange unearthly force gets me dressed
In my corporate suit - my weekday best.
I see other comrades rushing past
I run behind, I don’t want to be last.
A cold dim fortress awaits me here,
I serve my time counting each day, every year.
To think I had to face demons, walk bare feet on fire,
I was the lucky piece of furniture they decided to hire.
And seasons change under the skies,
Its long I lost track of when the sun sets or the stars rise.
My folks and I talk as such
We recognize voices, have forgotten the touch.
Then there is his pop-up or thought alert,
I like to dismiss these lest they hurt.
As fingers toil and brain nerves rot
Feels a battle is lost before I fought.
Then, like a ritual, comes that moment,
I want to break free, from the shackles, that very instant.
Before the impulse lasts any longer,
Mr. Greed and Ms. Comfort get bigger, and stronger.
I protest I don’t care, I am done.
Now I want to smell the flowers and feel the sun!!
Alas! The thought is killed before I know it.
'Trance'd back to "usual" mind-numbing, self-deteriorating Bullshit.
Within the fortress, I am the soul they slay,
I quietly accept my fate - sleep-walk through my day.
***Inspired by true story of a close friend :-)***
