New Day

Have you ever come to the end of the day, and can run the clock back play by play, and can add it up that supposedly it was the day it was suppose to be, but somehow it seems that no time has gone like a broken record playing on and on, and you think back through all the things you’ve done - every day every deed bleeding into one, and you can’t help but feel just a little fear and hopelessness, cause it isn’t clear what it’s all about, why you rise each day fight the fights you fight, play the games you play, do the things you do, “Just what the hell for” for you’ve done it all a thousand times before, and could keep on going til the bitter end, and perhaps you will but what purpose then does it serve, and so your left with not but to sigh and deal with what you’ve got, and just keep moving for you know what they say… tomorrow will be a bran new day.