Cylone
The soft music draws me away from my dreams, and I know it’s time
The light is different but the movement is the same. It’s always the
same... Drag myself through the day, through the motions…
Alive but not living. But do I have a choice? “No.” they
all say. “Do more. Do better. Do this. Do that!”
they all say. Caught in a tornado that never
stops spinning. The wind whirling around
me, keeping me caught in its funnel.
And just when I break through
… There’s that
music again.
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