Like a broken record,

Every end of the week I stumble,

As time moves along,

And life pulses and pauses,

As I sit at the edge of my bed,

Deciding what to start the day with,

To the best and worst of me,

The unending buzz to get it all done,

In the glow of the dimmed lights,

I see a shadow of the future,

Getting out of a blinding rut,

Seeing me as a worthy hero,

As work starts and ends in flair,

Celebrations and happy cheer dominates the scene,

In the black chair as I sit here now,

I've counted and thought back in life,

Life is a crazy gal,

With sharp nails and soft words,

Life is a mess and nasty at that,

Things do not work as seen and needed,

In a corner of many ideas,

The news spreads and opportunity rises,

Calmness and wind is in my ear,

The gentle breeze that laughs with me,

In the advent of trying to make things work,

It becomes worse,

Early and late as the hustle reduces and clarity ensues,

A sense that all is not well settles in,

Sitting on a frozen lake,

My reflection is all at stake,

A new day with faith that ends in hope,

A reminder that life can move on past,

In the hollow wind that clears my head,

The background music that pumps me up,

As the dew clears and the light brightens,

A familiar feeling of want arises,

As the rays illuminate the white corridor,

As life moves and I look at myself,