Twisted vision

Pressed against the open field
tucked under the vast sky.
Hidden out in plain sight
standing trying to fly.
Paceing circles in a square room
and waiting for to go.
Laying in a chair
while my body thinks of soul.
Will I think of yesterday
when tomorrow I think of now?
When you look into the windows of my soul
do you see the brow?
That is raised in question
as I answer why.
I wrote this wordy quirk
to let out a sigh.
Because I see things twisted
as I look straight ahead.
To get up each morning
just to end it back in bed.
To dread a day of working,
whistleing to a song.
Just as you came to read this
now its over and your gone.