Many of us this day

Many of us, wait for this week to end and the month to go by, while many sit with memories that for them has redefined time. Many of us will end this day, like every other, no changes to contemplate, while many will simply plan ahead, for that change that comes in time.

Many of us, tonight will pick up a fight trying to push everything that life throws at us, and many will simply be lost in the every growing life’s rush. Many will find no time to share what their happy about or what brought them down today, while many talk to many others while looking for their own day to make. Many of us will write our day’s worth in scribbles and pages of our diaries to which no one shares a glimpse, and as we keep the pen do, close the diary and breathe a sense of relief.

 

Many of us will sit on floors way above the ground, and many will simply relieve what we have already found. Many of us will watch the rain trickle down large window panes and sink on their warm office seats; many will simply keep a warm heart and wait for our silent retreat.  Many of us will disbelieve in bad news and cheer for good news alike, and some will simply be unchanged, non perplexed by the change that surrounds us every day; every night.

Many of us will hope for a change to come and not knowing that change was already there all along, as we keep listening and hoping for an undying song. Many of us will be living their dream jobs or working for a dream and yet some of many of us will always lie unseen. Many of us will flow with the flow in life, and some who will seem to strive and yet many of us will be waiting for someone to confide. 

Many of us will change our ways as we keep going back to the address we call our home, and in our own way, many of us will have the best of our memories to own. Many will walk the lonely walk, many will hold hands and yet many of us will live in the hope that someone apart from ourselves will understand. Many will keep looking for that perfect moment in time, and many will realize what they have is real, and yet it is but beauty sublime.