Optomism With A Touch Of The Ordinary
A Classic
My first day
To many other people it's their second
Where people act as if they did before
Not missing one beat
Going through their own rituals
I wonder if they realize
The path they follow
Neither time
Nor day
Are my thoughts free ?
Rising and falling
Hiding behind the white clouds
Scattered high in the sky
Loosely pieced together
By an invisible string
I hear voices of little ones
Talking to their Ma and Grandma
As the two boys bond
Where their sister is happy
Within an arms distance of her sweet mom
What thoughts can I explain
That will speak
Of the life I have uncovered
Following hidden promises
That were made years ago
A common bond
Soon they will leave
Their empty seats lie still
Living off an adrenaline rush
To carry them through
Just as I have found
Their pure energy to tap into