These Days

These days are my treasured gift,
To roam and to laugh, my spirits lift.
The sun often shines down from above,
And I smile and sing, whenever it does.
 
But each and every single one of us,
Face a wicked curse, we do not trust.
For all of us stare at the clicking hand,
And we realise, we have a set time on this land.
 
Some believe in another, perhaps a better, place,
Where laughter is heard, all through the day.
I can only imagine such a glorious parade,
But, those dreams, they’re not for me I’m afraid.