07 February 2007

the day ends as it began

the clock says time is passing but it lies
we do the passing and i'll soon be gone
this day's over a few dollars won
time's like a bird that southward flies
in darkling cloud that scuds the skies
before the winds with ease they run
to rest before the rising of the sun
time's emissary in whatever guise
the walls matte white and stained
tell me that i'm in here far too late
but that's my job and it's my duty
to take life as it is rough unstrained
attend to matters before meeting fate
glad of the few moments of real beauty

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