Turned Up for the Wrong Shift

I turned up for the wrong shift today,
wasn’t supposed to be there till Thursday –
how fucking annoying.

Suppose it’s shown how much I’ve grown;
once upon a time I’d have bowed my head,
stared at my phone and walked away,
pissed off for the rest of the day.

But today I saw an opportunity.
A rainbow in a cloud of worry.

Because, let’s not forget, Owen, you work in Kensington
so why not go sit in the Palace Gardens,
put pen to paper, (well, pencil, because I forgot my pen)
and write.
What more could I beg from the day than that?

After all I’ve been complaining about my lack of time,
yet right here is my god-given chance to rhyme.

Isn’t it odd how life works out so sublime?
I wouldn’t be here tonight if I was working 3-9.
Puts things into perspective, that when life gets hectic,
you must still find time to do what you love.
We get so caught up trying to make money,
trying to live, that we forget what we came here to give:
Our full selves, our talents, and every story
however hilariously sad or morbidly funny.

I must always let my soul ignite.
I must always make time to write.
I must always let my soul ignite.
I must always make time to write.
We must always let our souls ignite.
We must always make time to write.

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