Days

Whatever the weather
The days are grey
And go on forever
The same old way
Then we wrap them up
And throw them away
Another one starts
The same old thing
Another day long
As a piece of string
Another day wasted
Another day's end
Hour into hour
It all seems to blend
Horizons are hazy
The journey is slow
And all that we know is
the cock's going to crow.

by Terry Donovan

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