Forty eight more minutes to cut in this office,
Today’s 432 others have passed.
My head feels light, light as the clouds,
For my brains can no longer process a thought.
A dry day in the truest sense of the word-
The cold dry air of the AC dried my skin,
No juices or coconut water consumed,
No mind games or work to tickle my brain,
That vestigial organ, that resides in my head.
The wall to my left,
To me has been kind
The only solace of the day-
As I lean on its broad shoulders offered to me,
It, with no complaint, takes my weight.
I am ready to leave, ready to sleep,
To go out and face the world-
Catching a cab that will take me home
Will be the world’s greatest adventure, untold.