A poitical commentary about useless government planning. |
The alarm beeps once, then again and again sustaining itself, just like original sin i look at the screen, lit up iridesent 5:55 the numbers ring in my head so incessant Fall back for a second, brace my hand on the bed need a few moments to collect my head this short moment of confusion reminds me i'm not dead i reweave my thoughts delicately, as if with silk thread look back at the clock, it's now almost 6 how fast time moves during these morning politics and how political it is before first view of the sun so much hustle and bustle, but nothing gets done i step into the shower, turn the knob to full the water hits my face, quickly breaks my lull as it runs down my shoulders, then onto my back now i can truly think, interruptions i do lack fully aware of my feelings, all my trouble seems to shrink this is a time when i can really just think no longer fatigued from my slumber, my mind functions OK and my thoughts not yet corrupted by events of my day it's like i'm reborn every 24 hours an insightful new child inside my own shower a burst of new ideas on how to change and grow i can truly make a difference, this i know i'll set up all my problems and knock them down in a row ready to get started so i turn off the flow but something strange happens when i step out on the floor all my ideas an ambitions slowly fly out the door i try to hurry and get ready before they all leave throw on some clothes and throw my bag over my shoulder with a heave. rushing now, i make my way to class before i drop my thoughts and they shatter like glass i rush to the table to inform my peers but it would seem all my ideas had escaped through my ears the loss of such a thing almost brings me to tears but no time for that no because class time nears as i sit and listen idly to the lesson vile and rotten the account of my ideas is now thoroughly forgotten there is no need for regret, ecspecially none for sorrow the ideas will come again upon the morn of tomorrow and so this shall repeat as long as the clock ticks it's all a simple matter of morning politics |