published: 2015-03-05 18:15:54, updated: 2016-03-20 13:27:01

A day is when the sun comes up,

And we are dragged from the bed;

Strong coffee in the same old cup,

Some scrambled eggs and bread.

A quick shower to dress in a hurry,

It’s another day to be stuck in the traffic;

The forehead draws lines of worry,

Not realizing the world is photographic.

And when the day ends its dusk,

There’s barely enough to get back home;

The mannerisms all turn brusque,

Everyone wants their own version of rome.

There’s just no time left over from here,

No time to see a flower come to bloom;

We want a warm blanket to disappear,

By now the bed has become the tomb.

Then one day we just wake up,

And realize something is missing;

Drinking from the same old cup,

There is nothing for the reminiscing.

Some courageous ones may set out,

On a path to the pursuit of happiness;

They give up even before they scout,

The life is now a shell of emptiness.

What a tragic life we live, if it’s like this,

For this is not what we are meant to be;

Every day is like the thrill of a first kiss,

Because we’re happy when we’re free.