Dwelling

Bed soon awaits this dreary day.
I wish sweet dreams would come my way.
I don’t want to fight or need to play.
I just hope tomorrow’s better than today.
~
I know this sounds gloomy, but I’ve only begun.
This poem could get worse or might be fun.
But we’ll have to wait until I’m done.
So let’s start again, this is line one.
~
Bed soon awaits this dreary day.
A day so dismal I’ve nothing to say.
But I didn’t get beat up or have dues to pay.
And that’s a lot better than it was yesterday.
~
Sad days are passing and heart’s mending well.
Tomorrow holds no promise or soul to sell.
My heart will beat again then I’ll joyously yell.
Now that sounds better, I’ve no longer to dwell.

~*~
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