Asleep. Awake. There is no line.
Lost in daydream fantasies of a painted reality,
mirror reflections of other lives... other paths,
past... present... one never meant to be,
the "coulda", "shoulda", "wouldas" of another self. Another me.
Tomorrow's shadow will never be cast.
Today has never been real.
Sleep and dream of sweat and fame...
of music... of beauty... of a larger-than-life me,
but the mirrors hold a sobering truth. Wake up.
Leave the dreams for someone else. Punch your card.
Fade in cubicle.
Wake.