Routine is a maze.
Tracing a rigid line,
Landing at it’s precise destination.
Confined to its habitual course,
Without alteration,
The path unchanging; dull.
I become uninterested.
Blasé towards existence,
A lack of verve and vigor
Burns inside me.
Hungry by the urge to flee,
It fuels the desire within me.
I cannot endure a life of mediocrity.