Wild Eyes

She takes lunch early on her 8 to 5

Sitting and typing with wild eyes

Everyday and every minute of that hour

There she is sitting and typing

With wild eyes and she’s so inspired

Her ideas rise and fall on the minute

And she’s sitting tall as the mountain

To her side and the valley behind

Her fingers type with grace

And awe, it’s already 4 and soon

She’ll be thaw and very ready

For those hours when time is

Back to where it belongs and

She’ll think,

“Time is mine.

Time to grow,

What a day

That’s beginning.”

And she says it all with wild eyes

As her laptop folds and dies

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