Lost in a solitary moment,
Eyes vacant unblinking,
Mind blank and empty,
Nothing but mindless repetition,
Is that the sound they make?
I no longer heard it,
Staple after staple,
All into the same pile of accumulated paper.
It was as if my soul had hit autopilot,
Sneaked out for a cigarette break,
Yet I knew nothing about it,
Obviously had enough,
The monotony of another tedious day,
Another day without her,
The feelings of depression and hurt,
I wish I actually smoked.