There are many disasters
That can us each befall :
To know what people think of you
Is probably worst of all
I see so many “fighters”
Who’re really just sadistic,
I talk to some depressives
Who claim they’re “realistic”
I’ve met some “spiritual” people
Who are strangely possessive;
And I know many whiners
Who tell me they’re “progressive”
To want to choose how we are viewed
Is what this all betrays:
It’s strange the words we people use
To justify our ways
The hum of the machine I hear
I feel another presence near
Or maybe two, I cannot tell
I cannot seem to see
I wonder where I am, and how
I came to be where I am now –
I know that I don’t feel too well,
And something’s wrong with me
Who is that crying? She’s so sad.
I once heard my wife cry that bad –
This crying sounds like she did then
But I just do not know
It’s dark in here, I feel a breeze
I hear somebody’s labored wheeze
But I can’t rouse myself again
I think it’s time to go
I spent about ten hours today
With my Co’s C.E.O.;
Working upon a complex task
To help the business grow
It wasn’t bad, though I do not
Too much like that position;
For though I really love my job
I truly lack ambition