Lounging in my office
Lounging in my office All alone am here; Lounging half awake. Idly listening to the wind Blow through my window. One tired feet on my laden desk; A picture perfect symbol of tired. Me and the wind had a talk; He was howling all his woes At globetrotting a thousand times. I was silently bewailing my fatigued self. We both have been overworked for the day. Mine has come to a pause, His is still in play. I envied him his freedom at first But then I wondered aloud, What he saw in my state to feel bitter about. He told me in his whooshing speech, How he has no pause from work; Can’t even grow tired without dying. Work is his life and recurring hell, And there’s no end to his walks. Although we had a grumbling talk; A ghostly, refreshing opening of the mind, And we envied each other our states. We both knew, deep down we can’t Switch places or swap fates. I know I’d rather work hard half the day And have the time to rest like now, Than trot the globe like the wind Lounging apace i...