Even empty air
seems interesting
when you've got stuff to do.
I just stare
at the ceiling,
but oh, what a view.

Biding time
  Making rhymes
                Till I find
                    Some purpose
Always I
     Fall behind
         Sleeping till
            Last minutes
Missing flights
       And free rides
                   All along
                       The Highway
Losing sight
    Fading mind
         Close my eyes
                    I'm distant

Storm contains the stars.
These swim in bliss.

Bliss Bliss, not now.
After the storm shall you rise.

Due next Thursday?
No problem!
I'll start
The day before.