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Wasted Day
This is a wasted day,
Bloated and fat with un-use.
Wringing my hands and with a heavy sigh
I mourn the loss of time.
This is a dark day,
Soggy like a child’s sock after a day of puddle jumping.
I find myself staring at drops of rain, transfixed,
As they dance off the branches of firs.
There is a hum today,
It is the hum of industry passing me by.
I am not studious this afternoon,
I am lazy and weighty with sloth.
