This day in my life

The day is never ending mess of cleaning up aisle of code. A ball boucing in a cartoon over the words someone else is singing. Head pounding in the temple of sloth-ish thoughts. Afternoon claims to be my own as I calm the beat of this bouncing song. Am I a grid or do I swing?

Jump into this river

Let me carry the reaper

The end of this river

It cries a shredded sliver

Pushed off with my oar

Crafted from your arm, tore

Up into the rushing water

Let me sleep a bit softer