I thought I could make it,
I really thought I could make it.

But always unable to, tossing and turning through the night, forever,
never-ending.
Mundane repetition, going on and on.

Moonlight fades as clean, crisp morning air rolls in.
The ringing of alarms pulls those from slumber.

Dewy mornings, and the chime of pitter-patter rain.
Sloppy breakfasts, and roasting coffee with today’s news.

The eruption of horns and honks, early-morning traffic full of chaos.

The many crowds, taking over sidewalks,
while they wait for the light to change.

The glare of other cars, awaiting red, yellow, and green.
Mundane repetition, going on and on.

The shuffle of those who await elevators,
standing in silence collectively.

Forgotten idle chatter, filling the room
over plain sandwiches in paper bags.

Tomorrow unchanged, the cycle stays the same.
Mundane repetition, going on and on.