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The whistle blows and I arise
To start the day before blue skies
The dark water sits cold from past
Morning but a mug it goes in at last

The walk amongst the velvet leaves
Paired with the smell of a ending breeze
Allows myself the stop and dream
To look to the hope of tomorrow

The steel and stone building arose
From beyond the horizon such an impose
As the ants flow into the mound
And grey smoke billows along the ground

The hustle and hassle of a hundred men
Passes below the eyes that tend
And through the gates of heaven I pass
Or what is my final mass

Card punched and beaten
I leave utterly defeated
To see the dark walls of my dwelling
The feeling so compelling

To break down and sob on my knees
All trying the find the proper key
For the doorway opened and into it I walked
The future of things never talked