Ballad of a February Morning

Darkness out there.
Warmth and safety in here.
The rude alarm clock
says it all.

The shower is cold.
I look old in the mirror.
Life is worth facing
after a warm shower.

Breakfast is a chore.
Wishing it was more fried
than the cereal-ity
of Branflakes and milk.

No time for a whole mug of tea.

Grave injustice at 7.00pm.
Jamming a toothbrush in my face,
tie, jacket, shoes
and out the door.

Making it to the car
a 20 minute drive and a chance
to become human. Don't think,
just focus on the pedals,

hand break, speed, steering wheel,
coutnry roads (take me home!)
join the matrix masses,
exist until 5pm

or the next cup of coffee.