Just Another Day

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Just Another Day

If I could have seen it coming,
If I had been a little cunning,
If I would have just been running,
I might've just gotten away.

If I hadn't have gone there,
If I just didn't stare,
If I could be somewhere,
It would be just another day.

That day the skies turned black,
My heart just went slack,
There was a vicious thunder clap,
And the sunshine was kept at bay.

But if someone sees me cry,
And comes to ask me why,
I'll dry up and tell a lie,
That it's just another day.

The earth shook beneath me,
It made the supposed joy flee,
But no one appeared to see,
I suppose it was my time to pay.

It was as though the skies wept,
I wish I had just slept,
No promises were kept,
Other then that it was just another day.

The rain was of little comfort,
I still felt shunned and burnt,
And my heart cried over it's hurt,
'Just move on' is what my friends say.

So now my world lies broken,
And my sheets are all soaking,
Consolation is such a little token,
Why am I crying when it's just another day?

The one that wounded the most,
Is the one I often host,
It is the one who is slow to boast,
And he's better than me in every way.

But he deserves his living prize,
To the occasion he was quick to rise,
And he received a pleasent surprise,
To him it was not just another day.

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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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