I drive to my place.
The radio blares
About crime and race,
But nobody cares.
My heart has grown tired
Of hearing bad news.
My snacks have expired.
There's mud on my shoes.
My car's making noise.
My grass is uncut.
I trip over toys,
And fall on my butt.
I might as well mime,
When talking to teens --
They spend all their time
Staring at small screens.
My wife is so tired,
From each awful chore,
I think she's expired,
Til I hear her snore.
I eat -- drinking tea,
Stretched out on the couch;
While watching TV,
To practice my slouch.
Late news fills my head
With crime, death, and war.
So I'm off to bed --
Can't take anymore!
My eye sheds a tear;
I silently pray
A sigh for God's ear,
And thus ends the day.
Mick McKellar
July 2016
Unfortunately, this is how the day ends for untold millions of us.
Mick
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