WA#9 draft 2

He stares out his window
His mind is empty and blank
Taking for granted all the time
When he should be doing work
Hoping that he can make the clime
And not worry about the future

He tries to envision the future
Living in a house with a bay Window
A stream running down a hill, a steep Clime
A place to let your mind go Blank
A place to do important Work
All this will come in time

This is the Time
He has to make himself a Future
After a lifetime of slacking, avoiding Work
He can break through this Window
He starts with a clean slate, completely blank
Expressionless he begins to Clime

He remembers other times he tried to Clime
Time after Time
He could never make it, he would blank
He could not see his Future
He wanted change, could see it through the Window
But he could never Work

But now things are different, he can Work
He makes the Clime
He breaks the Window
He pulls his life together, he now has Time
The future beckons, he has made his Future
He made it what it is, a canvas blank

A canvas blank
His whole life’s Work
So he made his Future