Looking at the ceiling,
Figuring out to escape your stagnant way of living,
A little progress slowly decreasing,
Receiving bribes from your leisure time to assassinate productivity

There's nothing to root for tomorrow,
Your heart's optismistic side turns into sorrow
Saying yesterday was better than overmorrow

Smiling cannot be done,
Because you haven't got anything done
A masterpiece from your creative mind was left undone
Asking yourself, "How can this be done?"

Your passion is screaming as it slowly starts fading
Nothing becomes interesting,
All you want to do is resting
The only hope is dreaming


© Night_Dreme