I have no sense of urgency
No sense of rush
The world continues its existence
I have scutwork that needs attention
Yet I am in a state of hush
Drifting through life
No purpose or remorse
Eating my fill and sleeping until
I force myself awake, only then to daydream
Daydream of the ones leaving me
The ones coming back to me
The ones I’ll never see but am envious of
I will pick up tomorrow where I left off
Tomorrow I return to the world I left for a while
The world of urgency and expectation and haste
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
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