Purposeless looms at the forefront of your mind.
What dreams do you have with no hope to find?
Alone, your heart flutters and wonders what to do.
You feel stranded in bed with a never-ending case of the flu.
Lethargic and moaning you lie face down,
questioning if you’ll always frown.
Then like lightening an email comes through,
and just for a moment you have something to look forward to.
Your face lights up, as you tell a potential contact yup,
“We can be there so soon, before the next full moon.”
But then your face fades and your mind goes back to the shade.
What can I say about this day?
I must find work to do or I will feel like poo.
