Quick Streaks

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?