Again

**** the morning;
I sigh as I step into the shower.
Soon to be discarded dreams tug at my sub-conscious.
Another broken plot-line is lost,
the wildness of a night’s rest washed away alongside it‘s sweat.

Destined to die,
we spend our days as slaves
so we can spend our nights upon the couch.

Our individual everything’s
are infinite and insignificant;
a blade of grass that looms large above an ant.

**** work,
I sigh once more.
The subway’s dim, flittering lights
set the scene for my inner city journey.

This endless loop of mundane madness,
brings no love, no joy, or even sadness.
Churning numbers numbs my brain
and although a robot can’t feel pain,
blackness stirs inside an empty heart.

**** another lonely night,
I sigh again.
I sip my beer and smile,
finding comfort in nothing.

A witty sitcom shines in my peripherals,
**** the morning, **** work, and **** the night;
my drunken laughter explodes.

This long campaign has no reward;
no fat pay cheque, or love restored.
Life’s mundane nature now a perfect fit,
for those of us content to quit.
The tired soldier smiles as the bullet hits.