They never topple, fall, crumble, or falter
Everything is as it was the day before and never altered
No dark holes to fall through
No sense in watching my step
No moments of tense caution or checking the water for its depth
I'm not worried you see
Why should I be?
Everything is laid out for me
All I have to do is lie with it
But I'm not free
I'm bound to it
Depend on it like its my crack or my crutch
Pretend that its alright to create a lack of touch
Mind numbing, repetitive, and boring routine
Grind filled, replicated daily with no one to yell "Cut!" to end this scene
Its maddening but so very necessary
Its saddening but so very contemporary
As so many of us follow this trend called life
I wonder if there is anything more than what will just suffice
To be able to twist, mold, and contort
To be the artist, cold in his need to do it without support
To be the god that bends the day
To be the devil that tends to the night and than throws it away
To be the actor who decides what role to play
To be the director that yells "Cut!" to end the scene with no delay
Sad wishful thinking
So I'll keep quiet for now and keep on drinking
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