The alarm disturbs my slumber
Into another stupor I wander
Through my day of piles of files
Half-meant laughs and fake smiles
Taking a meeting; 'doing' lunch
Aimlessly crunching the numbers I crunch
Reporting on the findings I've found
At long last, I drive 'round
To home- where I stop counting sheep
And from the agony of dreamless sleep
I awake for the night's first star's twinkle
Just as though I were Rip Van Winkle.
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