Play in the Hay, Until you get your Way!

One fateful day,
I read the Editorial page,
"Are you doing what you love?"
full of experienced deliberation and rage.

I asked myself the same question,
an array of thoughts stood in queue,
outside my mind for the doors to open,
"What do I want to do?"

Daily doses of comfort,
made me lazy,
For, procrastination had no bail,
so I got out of the bitter barn,
to play in the hay.

So, apparently, sitting idle was not one of his fantasies!

One fateful day,
I read the Editorial page,
"Are you looking for a job you love?"
full of money and a golden cage.

I asked myself another question,
"Is money your satisfaction?"
outside my mind, stood another line,
I sank in my bed, eyes sleepy and red,
wrote this poem, and soon I was dead.

Daily doses of comfort,
made me lazy,
For, procrastination had no bail,
again, I got out of the bitter barn,
to play in the hay.

So, apparently, he got a lead role in a cage!

One fateful day,
I met the editor of the newspaper,
"Did you read my article?",
he was full of zeal and caper.

I asked myself yet another question,
"Am I in the right place?"
Before the thoughts could form a line,
he asks, "Are you alright nut-case?"

Struck by realization,
I told him, "Daily dozes of comfort,
made me lazy,
your article left me crazy,
I got out of the bitter barn,
to play in the hay,
But I just realized, to my rue,
I was just trying to be YOU"

So, apparently, he buys a different Newspaper now!