Hemlocked Heart

Not hard work, or it is?
The rise and the fall
Of ten clever dancers
On glowing black plastic
Who move without thought,
Of two tearfilled pools 
Reflecting the blue
Trapping the brightness
Within their abyss,
Of soft lullabies to sooth,
To stoke fire and focus,
Humming from a distant land,
And fluffy pink chairs
To sit in, crosslegged,
And question the value
Of 112 days.