The warmth of the sun,

On our backs as we run,

Towards a goal, that none,

Seems to know,

We waste and we borrow,

Till a day in the morrow,

We realize the sorrow,

Will just grow,

Perspective makes us blind,

To the hateful and unkind,

But it’s there we will find,


The most woe.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

When will we realize