Is this, today – tomorrow?
Or just another day of yesterday?
My coffee smells no different,
The cloud outside is not a different shade of gray
It hasn’t moved, it hasn’t changed
As if someone played hangman in the sky
And left the puzzle hanging, partly solved,
Giving me food for thought and an excuse to cry
I cannot feel I’m growing older
The numbing high of similarities again invades my veins,
Convincing me that I’ll exist like this forever
And I believe, and I don’t care – and it is all the same
Can I make this, today – into tomorrow?
And not another version of a thousand days I’ve known
If I endeavour to resolve the hangman’s puzzle
Will I escape his heavy cloud that wouldn’t let me grow?