What if my only progress has been my progression of regression

Pray for a break from the day to day
Before I decay
The world is in a rush
Sudden flush
Young boy no care in the world
Teenager begs for a dreamworld
Adult finds comfort in civil life
Elders pray for a decent afterlife
In between the busy weeks
I wish to feel the sun on my cheeks
Cold drink freezing my hand
Looking toward my promised land
Then the sun quietly sets
I sit in silence with no regrets
Stare at the night sky
A beauty I can’t simplify
Of course, this is a mere thought
Haven’t quite yet hit the jackpot
One day I’ll be on the roof
On that day I’ll feel bullet-proof
One day I’ll enjoy my youth
On that day I’ll face the truth
One day I’ll be an adult
On that day I’ll still exult

There was a chorus of mighty hammer blows
and the chimes rang out on cue.
The thump of progress echoing,
waiting for the last note to tune.

Witness the birth of something beatiful,
bathed in sparks and painted flames.
Build me a new masterpiece
for the earth from which it came