7:19 P.M.
My boss says to move
There is so much money to be made
I try to find my groove
And tomorrow I piss my money away
My office shrinks to a size of a tiny stall
I can�t honestly say my job helps me sleep
Surround myself with these four white walls
I hear the fax machine hiss and beep
It all happened so fast
I barely had time to blink
I question what makes happiness last
And then my brain refuses to think
I feel like I�ve been pushed
From a soaring airplane
My days are short and rushed
And they�re slowly driving me insane
Sometimes I wonder
When I will hear my calling
I need something to light my thunder
Something to end this feeling that I�m free falling
When will I feel the wind on my back?
When will I get rid of the sand on my face?
I feel my reality fall through the cracks
As I force myself into a much happier state
Oh God just let me rest
Let me collect my thoughts
In my dreams I know myself best
And right now they�re all I�ve got
By: Kelly T.
