long gone are the days where he slept at ten
dosent matter if his clock rings like big ben
the morning sun, the evening light
cant even tell which is right.
Curtains drawn,
hiding the inevitable first yawn.
Herein lies a poor soul, hidden, consumed by work
Stacked higher than an auditor clerk.
Accustomed to the sounds of jay chou,
in the midst of trying to find out how
Out of song bursts out passion
he works like he's a man on a mission
Oh how happy if there was an intermission
but sadly, no. Due to work submission.
Sigh. the life of an engineer. exam in a month.
No comments:
Post a Comment