Whose Day?

Days may come and days may go, some go fast and some go slow.
But this we know no matter when, We're never quite ready for them.
And when they come and then go by, we do steadily our skills apply.
But no matter what, each day must end, and we look for another to began.
And we find as the day unfolds, only the Lord knows what each one holds.
So we meet each day with a grin, for as the days, we belong to Him.

by H. Fitzgerald Durbin

Other poems of H. FITZGERALD DURBIN (2)

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