SO GOES THE DAY

SO GOES THE DAY

So goes the dastardly day, slinking over the misty mountain,
It knows that it’s done evil, spewing curses like a fountain.
So goes the day, leaving violence in its tearful wake,
A day that’s irredeemable, whose evil we can’t shake.

So goes the day, slinking like a petulant child,
Blatant, unrepentant, more than a little wild.
To its room in the land of wasted chance,
Where it does a cocky victory dance.
So goes the day, dressed in wicked array.

So goes the dusty day, slinking low into the dusk.
Leaving behind its scent of clover and of musk.
Slightly ashamed of itself and all it has done,
To quell the rejoicing, to silence the sun.

So goes the day, sorry for its misbehavior,
But clever enough to try and curry favor,
By promising a better version of itself tomorrow,
The new and improved, with half the sorrow,
Coming to your supermarket soon.
So goes the day, slow dancing with the moon.

So goes the day, sinking ever lower,
Losing strength as the night approaches,
Moving ever slower.
So goes the day with no apology.
Soaring in the sunset over the tops of trees.

So goes the day, in all its faded, hapless glory,
Another love song left unsung, another somber story.
So goes the day, its promise shot to hell,
Lying motionless behind the rainbow where it fell.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED