Same Old News

Off to work early she goes
Thinking which way the wind shall blow
Hoping her way for once would be nice
Not blown off course and over the side

The day drags by, mundane as always
Nothing interesting fills her days
Working for peanuts to scrape by
Sometimes she hopes the week to fly

Faraway places she dreams of running to
Where her boring life she can lose
Away from bills and the stresses if life
Anywhere from these she wishes to hide

Her walk home is past the train station
Tempted she is, but a short elation
For drawn home by an invisible force
Oh for a knight on a white horse!

Letters litter the floor as she walks in
The usual rubbish straight in the bin
Bills mounting up, struggling to pay
Same old news every single day