Welcome to the same boring routine.
You spin around like a wooden top
Being turned around by one and all
There's hardly a relief and no way out
Until your body and mind shuts off
And only alternative is to stop.
One in a while when the buzz is dead
And you sit idle for a change,
There's a blank expanse in your head
And the feeling is rather strange;
For free time is a rare commodity,
You have only yourself to keep you busy.
And yet, you find joy in nothing,
Perhaps you've forgotten to enjoy your own company
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