The rain falls quickly outside
and turns the sky a grey
that matches the shade of my sweater.
As depressing as it looks,
I still catch myself gazing
(blankly starring)out the window.
A woman drones on
about the importance of the work
I’ll be doing the rest of my life
but I cannot pay attention.
The quick streaks of white
that dash through my line of view
get me thinking; get me wondering
what am I doing with my life?
The days are dashing by
like the streaks of rain from the sky,
but unlike those cold, fat raindrops
I am not heading for a destination.
I am sitting at a desk wondering
what am I doing with my life?
Nice poem dear.
❤️✌️
BY FOR NOW
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Beautifully expressed
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