To What Must Be Done
Location
At My Kitchen Counter
United States
See map: Google Maps
As night becomes day and day to night,
I sit at the counter, alone but alright.
Dreaming of a day during which I work
Not from neccesity but with an earnest smirk.
For now, though, I am awake
And learning how ambitions take
All my hours of rest and turns them to
An unyielding, undying quest
To succeed better than the rest
But yet I remain as I was prior:
Tired.
And so as my pen writes my answers
to the questions lying on my paper,
my eyes do close,
and I do suppose
that I to you shall address this letter.
- Myself
This poem is about:
Me
Our world
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