Each time it sets, depleting my days
Which are finite and sit protected
In a shoebox under my bed.
I hold flowers and accept a scream
But not quickly or for reason,
Just the rooster reciting its morning ritual
Loudly to let us know a new rotation has begun around the sun.
Year after year, we hear the dancers
Tell us about death with their twirls
From parking lots to cemetery picnics
And a little life in between dreams.
Tomorrow, we may be miserable,
And yesterland loans its debt no longer,
So today is the only thing that is actually great
And we are the witnesses of our only once.
Love is the constant, good or gone,
That keeps the past, present, future and forever
In our pockets, ready to be brandished like a weapon
Whenever we need it to remind us we are alive.
Hurt and heart are the tackle box awards
Presented smooth as we lose or win,
One more day, one more sunrise,
Another annoying rooster call.