Everyday Is Different

I awake each morn to chase the clock In the race from nine to five, And firmly placed am I,in this dramatic flow, Upon my flight to stay alive. I peruse the paper with my morning cup And digest what yesterday has brought— I see who has died, what public trust has lied, And what war is being fought. I must trudge all day to sustain my way And earn a meagre wage. I display myself in moderate form To suppress my inner rage. I am a slave at best to my routines; I accept the clime that has no change; I place my hopes upon my dreams, But good fortune is somewhat strange. I can see that every day is different, Yet they bring a tedious tone, Whether I am labouring at my daily task Or resting wearily at home. The sun may shine upon this day; Tomorrow it may rain, But as every day is different, So are they the same!