Thursday, January 3, 2013

The Sun

The Sun
A poem by Daigneault

Starting out, which way to go
direction so unclear

But walk we do and try we do
decades from the years

A house, a home, a job, a way
a life you want to build

And then one day, inch by inch
the efforts start to yield

And it feels good, so very good
you’re going to pay the bills

A world steps in, words that smirk
your mountains turn to hills

A better job, a bigger car
clothes, vacations too

Then new friends, the money grows
is this a better you

A new thing found, an old thing lost,
discarded on the way

You say hello, you say goodbye
soon black and white turn gray

For what to build, to strive and grow
be not a hired gun

For looking grand with empty heart
a fool chasing the sun

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