Everyday, the sky will rise,
In shades of pink and blue;
The colors will fade; the blue will prevail,
But the clouds never change their hue.
Everyday, a tune is played,
Yet the notes are not quite clear;
The song remains short; the words are the same,
But the ending you don't want to hear.
Everyday, the thoughts do come,
Running and jumping at will;
Sometimes they rest; sometimes they race;
But nothing comes out winning still.
Everyday, a breath is taken,
To proceed and go forward with time;
Counting in steps; figuring paths,
But the final direction is mine.
Copyright ©2000 K. Monge'