The moans of a hungry stomach,
a language I can't speak
yet my body does.
My hands dry and bleeding
out from the cuts and cracks.
Hours on my watch
worth less than minutes now.
Tired,
yes.
Broken,
no.
A job well done,
always and again.
Pride less in what I do,
more in how I do it.
Tomorrow my list
greets me with my coffee,
always.
Fix this,
file that,
clean this,
buy that.
Life's routine,
as much out of the office
as in.
To take on more?
There's only one shot
we're given.
Yes,
always.
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