Quotidian
Rest assured that, except for my miserableAttitude, my day has been very much like
Yours. I got up early and drove to work,
Stood in the cold for too long with some
Others because no one would let us in.
Then I did what I usually do, and I left,
Came home, had breakfast, looked at
The news, went shopping for groceries,
Returned and made chili, and now I am
Waiting to pour my first drink, watching
The sun, in its degraded glory, get ready
To stagger away to sleep, bringing a day,
Which, like yours, lacked significance,
To the sort of end which suits someone,
Like miserable me.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 37 times
Written on 2020-11-12 at 23:51
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