In the day, I sit in my chair
Eyes wide open, my mind blank
A seemingly calm outlook
For a man with a to-do list
I lounge around and drink coffee
To stay up and do nothing

My nervous self comes to visit me at night

In the day, portraits watch my every move.
To appease myself, I run through the routine,
But I know of my sham.
Written notes disguise my actions,
The books fortify my falsehood.
A pretty, glass house that I’ve built
To allow my consciousness to peer in,
And glee with satisfaction.

My nervous self comes to visit me at night

In the day, the clock groans with disappointment
The seconds, minutes, and hours all pass by
Endless work to be done
But my lobotomized mind is fixed elsewhere
The fire continues to swell under my feet
But I pay no mind until the day is done

My nervous self comes to visit me at night