Like a plane waiting to land
Returning again and again
To the same piece of sky
Work eat sleep work
Over and over without end
If only something would happen
To break the cycle and set her free
Then she could feel what it means
To really live unconstrained
But its back to the holding pattern
Her fuel tanks running low
If they don't clear the deck soon
She will go incendiary
Ability to maintain altitude gone
Diving amongst them like a bomb
Her crashing will a be cry
Lost in the static and chatter
Of air traffic control.
© shaun patrick green 2011
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