The cat watches bugs,
From his place on the rug,
And he doesn't know,
I'll be gone, til I go.
The clothes in the wash,
Go slishedy slosh,
But they'll soon be packed,
In an oversized sack.
My eyes, they are tired,
But my mind is still wired.
As for what's on my mind,
It's like wheels that grind.
The planes overhead,
Don't realize my dread,
Or excitement or fear,
As the moment draws near.
