Another day, more work.
Tiredness looms around the corner,
yet I do my duty.

People buzz around,
coming and going. 
Everyone has their own agenda,
their own mission.

Mine? To write poems. 
Data entry just fills a dull hole,
but stories and poems
fill my soul.

I watch as people watch me,
unaware that they may feature
in a story or poem.

The wet and windy day outside
just serves to inspire me more,
though I do wish the wind would shut up.

Time for work,
boredom awaits,
but at least I work,
even if it grates.