Poetry

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Are  days standing iin line,obeying the time each one keeps on trying;the
choice is just one,must become aware of this and that too,to-morrow
under review;cannot be at sea my sailing ship carved on wardrobe's door,
can't explore plain as day;or problem solver or that other word moreover,
always ready is some explaination, like instruct the nation's some hope,
under a glass magnify,to really see the small becomes what's looks big
like we,every day can't stay,it wandered in till light gets dim.if the Sun gives a 
shout is to-morrow about,become then what you ought;is prose like the
weather each day says whatever,are we all forever,hope and pray;its
to day,ina way.
Joe.

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