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Crowded

 
I know I'm right when I assert
Seeking "Me" time's wasted effort.
Completely surrounded all of the time
Is starting to feel less than sublime.

I come out of my hole, and start to reflect,
Why my appeals get no respect.
It's not odd, as I'm sure you'll agree,
For someone to want some privacy.

But if you take time and ask my colleagues,
They'd stare at you with a look of intrigue.
"It's overrated," is what they'd say,
And continue to gab with each other all day.

You will be minding your own business,
But then they come close, they couldn't care less    
That you're busy and don't want to chat,
As they gather around you to chew the fat.

One by one heads pop up, causing great din,
Until they ask, "Whatcha doin?"
I say, "Do you mind? It's not your concern."
They roll their eyes, as their heads away turn.

They've no idea what some quiet can do-
What it's like to just sit, and enjoy the view.
But gossip and chatter, that's their great joy,
And my tranquility, they slowly destroy.

I am not a snob, I am not a snoot.
I just wish sometimes I could press "mute".
Who knows?  If intrusions were to cease,
Perhaps I could create a grand masterpiece!

I could've been a writer, or a philosopher,
An artist, composer, or great connoisseur.
Trying to think, my concentration's blown
Due to the fact that I'm never alone.

Who knows in the world what I'd accomplish
If their busy-bodying I could abolish.
But alas, that is to remain just a daydream,
Because as a Prairie Dog, I'm stuck on this team.

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