Rolling out of bed

Getting in the car

Staring out the window

Empty eyes looking far

Sleepwalk through classes

Fake a convincing smile

Answer arbitrary questions

Dying inside all the while

Talking to people

Even though it feels so fake

Trying to make it through the day

Is almost too much to take

Getting home is a relief

Then you collapse into a chair

Trying to keep the semblance of a soul

That you hope still remains there

Falling into a slumber

Full of manufactured dreams

Feeling your sanity slipping

Feel it spilling out the seams

A short six or seven hours later

If you’re lucky, sometimes ten

You’re awakened by the blaring

Telling you it’s time to start again