You are so over worked
So over work
Over suits and shirts
And stress and trials
Over clients and deadlines and silly files
You work in misery
Sit doodling through fantasy
Wanting, that dream
Wanting, to set your spirit free …
You could find a new dress,
Simply clean out your desk,
Simply: Walk, out, that, door…
But then you have to “open your eyes”,
Surely bills and money tell you no lies?
And once again: Fear, wins, your, war.
© Copyright 2016 Shannan Browne. All rights reserved.
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