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David Hines [userpic]

APED: "one more day"

May 7th, 2009 (10:45 pm)

Song lyrics again; the tune is something like you'd get if Tom Waits's "Time" and Buffy Sainte-Marie's "Universal Soldier" got drunk and woke up together the next morning not quite knowing how they got there.

This is one of those poems where I feel obligated to tell y'all that this does not reflect my own psyche, in order to head off the inevitable Very Concerned Emails. Because it's a downer (subject matter: suicide!) I put it below a cut.




Sometimes it's hard to get up in the morning.
He's given up on hoping things will change.
It's not a trick of circumstance, or something he can fix.
Whatever happens, he will be the same.
So he wakes up every morning, and he goes through his routine:
a shower, then a shave, and then the news.
And he doesn't eat a bullet,
and he doesn't eat the pills,
and he doesn't ever wash them down with booze;
and his window doesn't open,
and he doesn't cut his wrists,
-- down the river, or across the street --
and he doesn't use the rope that's in the closet,
and sometimes just that much is not defeat.
His oven and his stove are both electric,
and so he won't be going out that way.
And he wakes up in the morning, and he says a little prayer
for the strength to just go on for one more day.

She has her pride, and so she doesn't show it.
She drinks too much, but never goes to bars.
And no one knows, because she always wears a perfect smile
and always wears long sleeves to hide the scars.
She wakes up every morning and she goes through her routine,
as if her war is one that she won't lose.
And she doesn't eat a bullet,
and she doesn't eat the pills
and she doesn't ever wash them down with booze;
and her windows are street level,
and she doesn't cut her wrists,
-- down the river, or across the street --
and she doesn't use the rope that's in the closet,
and sometimes just that much is not defeat.
She's got a note she scribbled once, then went back to revise.
She reads it over, then puts it away,
And she wakes up in the morning, and she says a little prayer
for the strength to just go on for one more day.

I know it's hard to get up in the morning.
Don't give up hoping someday things will change.
Some things will get better. Others you can't fix.
But you can still keep going, just the same.
So wake up every morning. Keep up a good routine.
You still have options, and you still can choose.
But don't you eat no bullets,
and don't you eat no pills,
and don't you ever wash them down with booze;
and don't you jump out windows,
and don't you cut your wrists,
-- down the river, or across the street --
and don't you use the rope that's in the closet,
'cause sometimes just that much is not defeat.
You can keep on walking. Just one step at a time.
Don't let the pain you feel lead you astray.
And wake up in the morning, and say your little prayer
and find the strength to go on one more day.

Comments

Posted by: Maire (mkcs)
Posted at: May 8th, 2009 08:27 am (UTC)

Well, you may not be feeling that way, but I certainly have felt that way in the past, and it's a good description.

Are you missing an 'up' in the third stanza, though? First line.

Posted by: stalkere (stalkere)
Posted at: May 8th, 2009 11:15 pm (UTC)
I agree

Very good. Your limericks were funny, but this is some good serious work.

Posted by: David Hines (hradzka)
Posted at: May 13th, 2009 04:18 am (UTC)
Re: I agree

Thanks.

Posted by: David Hines (hradzka)
Posted at: May 13th, 2009 04:18 am (UTC)

Second line! Thank you.

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