6/18: Civilian
No difference, no traits, And no spandex. He looked like anyone, And he knew he wanted that. A chance to leave his stress, Turn a profit, Pay something. He had appointments, shifts, Dinners, papers, in-laws, In bed and in the shower Each day, every day. Commute, serve, return, rest. No more, no less. He looked like anyone. This was the way, right? Wearing, day by day; Screeching, droning, searing Monotony. Sun and Moon are chained together, Nothing is different. It can never rise higher. Doesn't worse. Doesn't get better. He looked like anyone, And it's killing him.












