Perception

A vacuumed vessel,

Charged to the brim,

Missing it's motor,

But moving it's limbs.

A conveyor of duplicates,

Week after week.

A life of mediocrity,

There's more to seek.

Change is an object,

That makes the world spin.

Consistency is normalcy,

It's comfortable skin.

Struggle is a drug,

It's renewable energy.

Comfort is enough,

It's a coffin but peacefully.

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