Every Day That Passes 2010

         Every Day That Passes

Every day is one day closer…

TVs going day/night long

Kinships growing global round – not stronger –


Bags of sand that weigh us down,

We are conditioned beings

With no meaning in

The breadth of meanings;

Non-constructive, non-productive days

To steer us towards a netherworld…

We dither

And we wither.

It’s just me the poet

Talking from my room – a nightime gloom –

A silliness. All death and doom.

Don’t share it if you won’t.

Each day may open faith to one.

© Every Day That Passes 11.28.2010

A Sense of the Ridiculous; Birth, Death&InBetween; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

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