one more day under the rays
of a strange and merciless sun.
one more day to pour out your blood,
your sweat, your tears.
one more day to fight the inborn urge you have
to tune out the drone of a leader
and, instead, march to the perfectly imperfect beat
of your own drum.

one more day stuck in the grasp
of the same small town.
one more day to write, to paint, to sing,
to keep my mind as busy as possible.
one more day to fight the inborn urge i have
to get in my car
and drive down
one hundred highways
just to tell you
that
i
love
you.