
It’s one of those days
That nothing happens
You just sit and stare at the ceiling
The window, floor, or some passerby
Mind drifting to an incident in the past
Like some busy bus suddenly out of use
You relish the past and the company
And your usefulness that was once a source of pride
Seems some things are destined to be broken
Never to be mended
The days of inactivity and boredom
And regrets,
Enhances the uniqueness of colorful memories
Life and balance
The good and the bad have their places in the grand plan.
