Bells chime, ding ****.
Cue the long run.

Rumbling empty belly
of a concrete anthill.

The same faces, same routines
same air, same space to fill.

Run, children, run!
Two hundred green pullovers

move in unison.
And the beautiful ones detach themselves

with heavy lungs
they inhale the fresh air

stamp out rollie butts.
Nobody cares.

Eat, sleep, bleat.
Two hundred green and grey sheep.

Day in, day out.
Repeat, repeat, repeat.