Some are sunny and clear.
Others hazy and grey.
Some short as a nap on an airplane.
And some wear on like gears on a train
filling buckets and buckets of icy shard rain.

Some are quiet, so quiet they don’t make a sound.
While others are hurricanes knocking everything down.
Some are ****** upon us without warning.
Others are gentle as the orange sky dawning.

Some a gift and some a curse.
And some are so trite like they’re rehearsed.
Some we’ll not forget.
Others we write off like a rubber check.

But isn’t a tinge of pain in them all?
The hinge is broken and the dreams just loll.