Trudging down the path
The beat path I knew well
A path my shoes had smoothed over
And the lack of friction was proper hell
It seems days of walking
Had exposed something buried
And the something buried caught my eye
As along the walk I scurried
Ooh, shiny! said my brain
Let’s stop and take a look
So stop I did before the sand
And another look I took
Nothing particularly interesting
Just probably photo-worthy
For whatever it was, that faux flash
It seemed just quite earthy
But I’m on a well-worn path!
And schedule I must not betray!
Oh, can I stop and smell the rose?
Should I go or should I stay?
As, of course, Smart Alec will say
There’s nothing here to smell;
It’s a bloody sun-reflection
As a closer look will tell!
Well, tell that to my distracted soul
That’s stopped to take a snap
And just as the shutter closed once
Time sneaked up on me and gave me a smack
Heavens, where did my time go!?
The shiny thing is gone!
“Of course, you silly thing,
It only shines when the sun’s on.”
And now it’s 10:30,
And I trudge along home,
The day’s gone, but it’s too early for bed:
Just some more time to waste alone.
As I turned to face the turkey,
She gave me the hairy eyeball
“What have you done to deserve me?”
So I wracked my brains
And thought of the year past,
But all I could bring up
Were all the times my
Personal flag flew at half mast
I’ve won a bag full of adrenaline
And some very close shaves
I think of all the money
That I have just saved!
And I’m not an insomniac,
I’m down as soon as I hit the pillow,
But what I do in the hours
Before I snooze
Is something I’ll never know
But the work is going just fine!
You’re not falling in the grind,
Yes it’s true, but the only
Reason for that
Is I’m bored out of my mind
I have all the time
And none of the motivation
Remind me of that and we’ve
Hit panic station:
I’m the embodiment of generations
So I frown at the turkey,
And what I’m going to say
Has nought yo do
With my fears
But it works anyway.
I say, “Hear, hear, turkey, you’re a meat!
Evolution’s got you beat,
I’m a Human with my tools
And a civilisation built by fools
In the upper echelons of philosophy
And you’re nought but a dinner treat to me
So you’re getting served tonight
By capitalistic decree
And for all we speak of thankfulness,
This has nought to do with me.”