The day is over and so this song
Must close the mighty throng
Of four-and-twenty verses with little merit or skill;
Perhaps they gave a little thrill,
But if they did not, take comfort that
They end here, and that is that.
The response to this has been incredible, if ridiculous. I’m glad that you like the poems, and seeing the good response roll in all day has been fantastic. Thank you all.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic
The day is nearly over, now to rest
The weary world turns its thought to how it is blessed
While those in pain to their suffering soul
And dream of ways to restore the whole.
All blink tired eyes and drift away
To wake again another day.
Nobody walks that empty street
Except the rat, sniffing in boxes
Of discarded food; it takes a piece
And hastens into shadows
A thief of waste of days
Unable to produce, but able to consume
It swallows and then emerges, its hunt to resume.
Pump it out and
Let me feel alive.
One night more to
Live like this – true.
The last few folk scurry into their homes
To mark the end of the day
With fast repast and generous tales
Of their time since they last could say
“Hello, my dear ones, I’m glad to be here,
Join with me now and share in my cheer.”