Written for a 'trapped' poetry competition

Harsh lights slice through sleep-filled eyelids, electronics scream.
Burrow under down-filled duvet, make it go away.
But the ruckus won't be silenced, killing peaceful dream.
Ice-cold floor and blunted razor. Welcome to my day.

Cardboard toast and tasteless coffee. News sounds all the same.
Wars in countries no-one's heard of, starving thousands flee.
Adverts selling perfect lifestyles, come and play the game.
Plastic cards for plastic people, wishing it were me.

Same old people on the platform, faces frozen blank.
Day on day we see each other, saying not a word.
Week on week of lonely journeys, just ourselves to thank.
Year on year of silent trudging, lifetimes in the herd.

March the dreary streets of London, look not left nor right.
Automatic pilot steers us to the office door.
Shifting paper without meaning, yearning for the night
When at last we lose our senses, sleep for evermore.

Home that evening, hit the armchair, shout out at the kids.
Microwave and double vodka, mindless TV show.
Counting seconds till my bedtime lets me close my lids.
Thinking of a time remembered when life wasn't slow.

Fresh from college, hale and healthy, full of love's first glow.
Pushing hard against the traces, racing round the track.
Plans to change the huddled masses, break the status quo.
Puzzled where that young man went to. God, I want him back.