Crisp days freshly dawn
hold hope of perfection
But by dusk forlorn
faded in dejection
Takes guts & strength of mind
never just by fingers’ snap
Sounds like same old tired grind
as joy doesn’t sit on our lap
So if we think it can be achieved
by just staying in the slipstream
we’re allowing us to be deceived
lost in that American Dream
where we’re entitled to score
while putting in less, not more