Open Poetry #48 |
The Day They Go Bye |
Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
I notice their passing, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, But barely, for they speed by, Each added year it’s faster I can’t deny, Days are events beyond the sun, Lost in a haze continually spun. Monday, Tuesday, Weday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, I’d like to mark each spin with joy, But that never was this boy, So I watch the passing from my room, Till traded for the peace of the tomb I continue in poverty and pain, I continue in a modest gain. Monday, Tuesday, Weday, Thursday, day, Saturday, Sunday, I proceed with clock and calendar, Always the underdog challenger, Barely noticing those around me Content if just let be. Monday, day, Weday, Thursday, day, Sunday, And if I find things that I’ve forgot I blame it all on the speeding clock, When I cannot do things done before I blame that creeping calendar With the vanishing years Forgotten tears And vague memories of passing days, Day, Day, Day, Day, Gloom |
||
© Copyright 2013 Aszard Drazlom - All Rights Reserved | |||
Victoria
since 2000-08-12
Posts 5869 |
And if I find things that I’ve forgot I blame it all on the speeding clock, When I cannot do things done before I blame that creeping calendar Nice writing Professor.Enjoyed reading your words again. ~Victoria Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. |
||
nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Yes, the passing of time and that which does not come to fruition does make for some dark days and sometimes even forgetting which day it is. M |
||
jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
nicely done, prof! Good rendering of the passing of time. j. |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |