Peaks and Valleys

After a monotonous day of pointless toil

I succumb to the comfort of my home and uncoil

My father tells me that this practical life is for the best

but every day seems to be a clone of the last

when I think of the inaction

it's as though the walls begin to close in

and what was once a comfortable home

now has transformed into a veritable prison

fear has transformed me into an unmoving rock

as my mind turns into a resevoir of forbidden thoughts

I become more aware of the ticking of the clock 

louder and louder it becomes, as this vicious cycle seems to never stop

And in a fleeting moment where clarity wins

I reach out to others with the power of my pen

for it's much better than wallowing in self pity

or to accept defeat and simply give in

Unlike people, my pen is something that's loyal

it's always here to help me revel in my spoils

but also an escape from days full of melancholy

deep down I know it'll join me in every peak and valley