Endless Routine — A Poem
Funny people, funny minds,
Born of puny earth, different kinds.
Born to live, eat, reproduce,
Live a life of little use.
Burden great to Mother Earth they be,
People poor, wallowing in their misery.
Where to start, where to end?
Leave the straight, take the bend.
Leave the routine, live a life,
Sane and meaningful, free of strife.
Tread the untrodden, walk a new mile,
Others going in endless circles all the while,
When will it change, when will it end?
When will people their lives mend?
NOTE: I have seen many people living routine lives, not wanting to think out of the box. This poem is meant to shake them out of their stupor, IF they have been running the endless rat race with no reward in sight. This poem is a warning, yet encouragement to those people who are endlessly stuck, running in circles, to find the nearest exit to their present state, and change their lives for the better.
