The Never-ending Day

When I wake, I wonder how much longer I can take this same routine. I reminisce on possibilities of the day, if only I did not follow what was set.

When I lie down to sleep, I may cry or may simply stare, but it often the same thought. That the day was the same. Again. And though I know within a year's time, it will change, it feels it may last forever. This pointless, this boring, this freedom stealing life. So simple I could break it. But something stops me every time.

And again I wake, only to repeat and watch it all again