Just Another Day
I sit watching the hawks soar through the violent, October breezes; across the thinly painted trees. Thinking of everything and nothing as I wait on a mundane bench. I hear the mechanics with their air wrenches as slowly my tire is replaced. I notice everyone, and can almost tell what their lives are like from a mere glance. My mind never sleeps or rests or slows. Madness is where I'm most comfortable. It is a chaotic, gentle place. Sometimes I don't think I'll even make it through the day. Sometimes I get so lost, I'm not sure if I left or if I stayed. Complaining about what I don't have doesn't change a thing. All I know at this point, is this is just another day...
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2014
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