Outnumbered.

Sunken treasure chest robust...
Hidden away these hours for normalcy.
Passion lacking in current design,
The ocean is distant and there is not time.
How can I forget this quest?
How do I get shoved aside?
How does all my desire shrivel and cry?
Is it letting go of ideas and imagination?
Tis it a wicked plot to wither me bland?
To return me hence to the stage of games,
With nothing complete to show?
Mundane.
Monday tomorrow again.
And there is no time, no time for fantasy books.
No time for all the ideas in my head...
For I am a mother first and no one pays me for that.
And no one pays me to write for that matter.
I am called worthless and that I dread.
I feel outnumbered by the daily grind.
Drifting in relation ship and shoved aside.
So if I am the captain of my ship...
In order to have more time to write,
Who is gonna walk the plank?
Whom I mean?
Someone must be weighing this ship down?
Outnumbered.
What will i be giving up in order to re aquire the most precious thing to me.
Time.
Now spend it wisely.
Yawn I shall take a nap before my childen get here.