We never seem to see it coming,
When the dark times are here,
Depression, black… is out of whack,
And everything looks drear…
And then a glimmer… maybe hope?
When will the sun appear?
But gray men in their dread gray suits,
Make the paperwork loom near…
And we must fill out in triplicate,
The forms you sign right here.
This dawn you want is pink and blue?
The proper form, my dear…
Sign it, scribe it, write in ink,
And make no mistake appear
And then you write and write and write…
To make the dawn shine clear.
I guess the thing to do… sometimes… when everything is going against you, is to write a poem… or take a picture of the sunrise… maybe two.
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