Each passing day Feels like a lifetime But simultaneously like a second That has flown past before I have a chance To catch it fully Every action I take Has been taken so many times before That I remain rooted to the spot Unsure of whether to slip into the cycle Of endless repetition Or whether I should search for something Fantastic and brand new Then I realise my duties call me And I spin back to page one, square one Back in the monotonous world I’ve created for myself Ironic, isn’t it?