The huddle
"Huddle time," a voice shouts.
Murmurs begin to whisper about.
It's that time again.
Same time every day.
It comes around so fast I forget it exist.
Wasn't it just this time yesterday?
Where did 24 hours go?
I wonder as i lean against the wall.
This very blah room could ruin anyone's day.
It simply was nothing but gray.
The furniture and walls just meshed into one.
Nothing existed in this room except numbers and machines.
Everyone falls in line all humdrum and sad, except for me.
My position is perfect.
This view is means for an escape.
I'm outside now.
Sitting under a perfect tree. With it's perfect green leaves and perfect brown bark. In the perfect shade. In the perfect grass. In the perfect sun. Putting sunflowers in my hair.
Watching ladybugs dance through the air, laughing and taunting the ants below.
"Oh silly ants, you don't know how to be free. All you do is labor on, like the worker bees. No fun is had. No dancing and laughing. Just work, work, work while the time just keeps passing."
A lady bug lands on my hand as I nod in agreement. Silly ants. They just don't know what to believe in. How can you labor all day while this beautiful, colorful world is here for you to enjoy?
"Let's go Meadow. Back to the grind," the voice floats. Pounding on my eardrums.
I shake my head as someone pushes me from behind.
I'm in line again in this gray, soulless room.
No longer outside enjoying the view.
I'm buzzing back to my desk and it cuts like a knife. I am the worker bee and the silly little ant.
I lose it all until next time.
'Til the next meeting.
Now back to the grind.
Murmurs begin to whisper about.
It's that time again.
Same time every day.
It comes around so fast I forget it exist.
Wasn't it just this time yesterday?
Where did 24 hours go?
I wonder as i lean against the wall.
This very blah room could ruin anyone's day.
It simply was nothing but gray.
The furniture and walls just meshed into one.
Nothing existed in this room except numbers and machines.
Everyone falls in line all humdrum and sad, except for me.
My position is perfect.
This view is means for an escape.
I'm outside now.
Sitting under a perfect tree. With it's perfect green leaves and perfect brown bark. In the perfect shade. In the perfect grass. In the perfect sun. Putting sunflowers in my hair.
Watching ladybugs dance through the air, laughing and taunting the ants below.
"Oh silly ants, you don't know how to be free. All you do is labor on, like the worker bees. No fun is had. No dancing and laughing. Just work, work, work while the time just keeps passing."
A lady bug lands on my hand as I nod in agreement. Silly ants. They just don't know what to believe in. How can you labor all day while this beautiful, colorful world is here for you to enjoy?
"Let's go Meadow. Back to the grind," the voice floats. Pounding on my eardrums.
I shake my head as someone pushes me from behind.
I'm in line again in this gray, soulless room.
No longer outside enjoying the view.
I'm buzzing back to my desk and it cuts like a knife. I am the worker bee and the silly little ant.
I lose it all until next time.
'Til the next meeting.
Now back to the grind.
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