The Exchange (poem)
Each morning starts the beat of life’s routine
No longer matters one day to the rest
A part from sterile bleakness lack of scene
This haven that becomes a human’s nest
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Soon after what is called the morning fare
He settles in his space the same old way
Some days he needs a hand in getting there
Small things one takes for granted cause delay
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But once he starts what richness in his tide
With vibrancy paints all the world alive
His light frees confidence once lost inside
Inspiring dreams with power to survive
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Beside this mind the rules of time can range
Still all things borne of earth some repose yearns
In sleep for now our fantasies exchange
To what tomorrow brings if he returns