Ever wonder how you ended up this way?
In this Place? Doing this thing that you do?

The days crawl by, that single grain; never hitting the bottom.
Of that hour glass figure...

Of bottled opportunity, devotion, and mixed emotions of this physical plain that we infest...

Dragging feet do, stand behind a counter 8hours a day.
Shitty pay. A cleche life that isnt any different.
So pointless is the smiling, nodding, and conversations with strangers; that realisation becomes nothing as the fake smile produced is followed by the drone like sigh saying "Have a nice day" as slowly this all sinks away.

The jumbled anguish; pushing on it becomes more than your life...
it becomes that life... a distant place that you'd rather not be.

Dramatics of actions and non-actions; lost opportunities.
What happened to the dream? That bubble burst.
Lost to what was wish and now is reality, as cold as it could be.
The ant never had much say, it does as its told, as its ordered, as it conforms;
to once be noticed, reguarded for skills learnt and competence shown.
The last things left, of this hapless soul, out of control...

Be more than you are now...
Become more than you will ever be...
To Be Me.