staying up again, way too late
with eyes that rest their lids upon my knees.
unrest curdles in my torso,
and stings my heart like angry killer bees
my feet they long to roam, my ass it likes to sit
so my mind will go and wander, until IT becomes unfit.
Run this treadmill, run run run
routine and money,
cooking and cleaning
obligation and sacrifice
and indulgence in dreaming.
__________________
We'll never be as young as we are right now
|