What I Suppose To Be

5:30 in the morning, Sleep disturbed by an ungrateful sound, Mind racing, body escaping, But forced to surrender, conformed to the social norm, Disguised in a uniform, labelled, For what I suppose to be. Caffeine induced, emotions serene, Driving back to a job straightforward, Too busy thinking about what will go wrong, Wondering why I don’t have a qualification, For what I suppose to be, But my bills, rent and booze have cornered me in, Deteriorating dreams that could have been. Back bent, palms sweating, Moving back and forth, lifting one by one, Music plugged in, listening to ideas seen, Creating a colourful aura, From all old the old and grey, Where happiness felt none Too concerned using sounds to induce my free drug, To chase my Dream, For what I could have been. 2:00 in the afternoon, Belly’s full, limbs tender, Colleagues above rush to end the forever ending torture, Too quick to hold, hammer slips, Pulled down, crushing my skull, Knocked out cold, mind spiraling out of control. Instantly, Mouths wide open, soul finds rhythm and begins to flow, Too busy dancing, I forget to say thank you, For setting me free, For what I should have been.