there you sit, in a waking trance.
monitor on, shoes off.
the strip lights buzz, like bees in the distance.
and yet, you’re not here. not in this place.
you’re off, over the fields that dance.
like the child that once was.
brushing young hands on grassy seas,
waves of wheat, as high as the following giant.
the eternal sunshine on your back once more,
head flung upwards in blissful laughter.
you remember those days, that seem so far
away in the past. and yet they’re still near.
that little girl is still within you.
giggling beneath your professional persona.
release it once more, and run to the hills.
you’re never too young, and never too old.
okay……not morrisey, but still :wink: