Wake, Go to work, Come home to sleep,
The quagmire where I stepped my feet.
Every morning the alarm rattles my head,
With sleepy puffy eyes,I snuggle up in bed.
Atta go girl, its a new day I say,
Something exciting may be jogging along my way.
I could be the editor of a sauve magazine,
Or a counsellor for dole hearted teens.
But nay!!Darn! the stupid alarm rings again,
Just when I was dreaming to write like Jugular vein.
I saunter in a semi consious state,
Hit the showers lest I become late.
I just cant afford to miss the shuttle,
To be left commuting at the speed of turtle.
Approximately 850 hrous of travelling a year,
It takes 9 hours to reach the moon,even that seems near.
Ok,great achievement!!destination reached,
Admist office walls that are bleached.
Even Jules Verne went around the world in 80 days,
That's atleast more interesting than moving around these bays.
Just the beginning of a marathon inning,
Ten hours to kill without grinning.
The day begins with breakfast and tea,
All set to work with ears glued to MP3.
The atmosphere slowly becomes murk,
When with all dedication I set to work.
As work keeps on piling more and more,
I yearn to sleep and blissfully snore.
A ping to confederates in the same predicament,
Towards the breakout we march in mutual consent.
We thrive on caffeine and latest gossips,
Munching our way through potato chips.
Alas,I just sit and warm the couch,
Experience protruding itself in paunch!!
Staring at the monitor as though its my significant one,
Continuing like this,would definitely become a nun.
Somewhere in between,I am transported to a dreamy land,
Like Thinking about Bryan Adams my favorite band.
To roam in a fairytale midst dungeons and dragons,
Zapped to the present to hear all jargons.
Slowing and steadily the clock eventually strikes six,
Happiness spreads within as though high on felicis felix.
If its a Friday,a smile is glued on everyones face,
The weekend fires away at super sonic pace.
And again I am back to Monday,that day of week,
PMS (Post monday syndrome) kicks in making me think all oblique.
Phsycology students analysing human behaviour can here run amock,
As behavioural patterns of people change around the clock.
The nerons in my brain are fizzling out,
The jongleur getting lost betwixt the rout.
A black hole sucking all the chirpiness,
Replaced with new release of sarcasm and laziness.
