The rain falls outside the window,
but if not for the sound of the gutters
emptying into the grass I wouldn't know it.
And I, so deep in thought, try to tear myself
from the numbing work before me
to capture a few fleeting hours of sleep
before morning rips away any hope of rest.
For morning only brings more errands to run,
places to be, work to do, plans to forget about.
And now my dreams of yesterday
about where I'd be today are now dreams
of where I might be tomorrow and
the clock tick tocks away all the
minutes and hours I've wasted.
So I sit alone, with hours of work ahead
and rain outside that I hear but do not see.
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