Going on,
That tasks are always being completed,
And nothing seems to be getting done,
That the end of the day never comes,
Where there is a flawless sleep,
Because the next thing's always calling to,
Be complete,
That what one loves and what one has to do,
Can never be one and the same,
Or, at least, if they are, there has to be,
Some kind of intrinsic change,
To make it alright,
To actually do it,
Because others around would never stand,
A success that is legit?
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