Decadent Dreams

Every day I am born anew Through the mud and sludge Of decadent dreams And some vague remembrance That I'm connected to my past I stare at a mirrored reflection I do not recognize My cold pinching shoes feel too far away to tie As I try to remember where I'm going and why I try to capture that which is lost The world that was meant for me Is not the world in which I live My face feels the sting of one hand clapping My eyes focus on the world outside of my self The colors change from ‘Dali-esque vibrancy To being all sooty and smelling of sweat Ahhh, ... it must be Monday and time to go back to work.