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!
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