Cubicle Maze

I don't have much to say anymore... My routine has become me... I toil under the artificial light... In the mountains but longing the sea... I've wanted to speed up the oppressive time... But sometimes I've wanted it to slow... I've walked miles under the blazing sun... Yet my mind is on a cool plateau... Everything is the same... Changes rush over me like a flooded stream... No one looks at me... By noon I will surely scream... I work with a mechanical rhythm... Usually in 6/6 time... I sludge through my daily chaos... My mind is my partner in crime... The clock ticks by with it's subtle grin... As rusty thoughts drip through my head... I'm just another number in a cubicle maze... I'm another headline that remains unread...