The Rat Race


The air churns in the bellows of the wind

Papers fly – leaves join in

From dawn to dusk the arrows fly

The arrows of thought in you and I

Your neighbour is all tuckered-out

You lend him a helping hand

He eases into the chair all forlorn

And vacant exhaustion crinkles his brow

You take a moment to survey

The files in your head of the day

All persons together on the battlefront

Not a shot was fired in this war

This is just the everyday – heads are sore

Too much – too quickly – is demanded

Work yourself to the bone

The bone in your head vibrates like a drone

Like mounted-up shelves

In the department store

There are endless amounts to explore

But you think you’ve got it sussed

If we just do it this way…

All will be well

You sleep per chance to dream

And again enter the new dawn

at the speed of a thunderbolt beam


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