Nine to Five - A poem from a former student, now working full-time... Watch

Plumstone
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Nine to Five

Coffee only numbs the ache
Of sitting here before the screen,
When did I begin to break?
When did my spirit grow so lean?
Eyes which once burned bright with fire,
Have dulled to a fluorescent haze,
The world once viewed with such desire,
Has lost the glow of former days.

From nine to five the emails churn,
Requests, replies, they ebb and flow,
My heart can only weakly yearn
For something lost - it used to know -
Something like the sunset's light,
Reflecting on a rain-wet road,
Like a heady summer's night,
Where nothing's due and nothing's owed....

That feeble yearning gasps for air,
And each new deadline weighs it down,
I've not the time or strength to care,
I'm almost willing it to drown...

For maybe then my weary mind
Would focus on the tasks at hand,
And suffer less than when it pined
To be creative, daring, grand! -
Perhaps it might then just shut up
And stop tormenting me with dreams
Which swell and stretch and seek to threaten
My almost-but-not-quite-split seams;

Then, perhaps, I would be free,
And through the world of work I'd go,
Without this yearning ache in me,
To write and live and learn and grow.
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