At odds with privacy

I come to life.
The sun is bright.
I slept with just myself last night.
Yes I'm alone.
And thankfuly,
there's no one here to bother me.
My coffee's hot.
I'm running late.
The raceing rats,
flash glares of hate.
I try to get,
from here to there.
But traffic won't go anywhere.
And if I speak,
no one will hear.
And if I scream,
no one will care.
When I arrive.
The mood is down.
Motivation is on the ground.
The schedule's blown.
The work's behind.
The consequences are all mine.
I do my thing.
Don't hesitate.
I work all day without a break.
Then make excuses.
Buy some time.
And head home with no peace of mind.
But traffic's jambed,
All through town.
I don't get home until sundown.
I walk inside.
Turn on the light.
No one is here,
this quiet night.
So if I speak,
no one will hear.
And if I scream,
no one will care.
I eat my fill,
and rest a while.
Think of today, and do not smile.
I'm crawling out
of one more day.
Into my bed, to fade away.
The pillow's hard.
The sheets are cold.
I'm wishing for, another soal.
But I'm alone,
and so at least,
theres no one here to bother me.


And I have found,
I've come to be ,
at odds with my own privacy.