Empty Days

So many days wasted.

So many days not

doing what you want.

You get paid for nothing

joyful–only maybe

money and it’s

empty, meaningless

hollow and fruitless.

People go to work

because they’re afraid.

They’re afraid of poverty.

Afraid they’ll starve

if they stay home or

go somewhere they love.

They’re so mistaken

and they live mistaken

lives.

They don’t get a chance

to do it over.  It’s a

one time proposition.

Everyday wasted  in

joyless living &

stressful struggle

is a day lost to the

heavens forever.

You can never get it

back.  Or do it again.

Why do we torture ourselves

so?

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Categories: creative writing, love, Poetry, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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