a poem I wrote a day or so ago. I don't really know....
Never
Never, Never , Never, Never, Never, Never, NeverEveryday of the week the sun rises the same
the same path the same sky the same name
Never ever lucky though, its never good or bad
It's in between it's gray and dull and confusing
Never yet has the sun sailed away
leaving us to wonder its return
The sun is always there it is simple, dependable
The air never leaves presenting us death, no
we sleep with smiles and dream of our next day
The air is always there it is life giving, constant
Then why does it make sense the creator is not here?
He seems confusing, complex and loveless
He is not dependable, he is not here
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