WHEN THE DAY IS GONE

When the day is gone,

I look back at all my works undone.

A friend I promised a visit, and-my loved one I promised a day out.

These promises i never fulfilled,

it was not my fault cause the day seems so short.

When the day is gone,

I stare through the office window-

just to catch a glimpse of the sun sailing home.

The once busy street deserted,

market women biding one another a restful night.

The street touts running after men in suit-

for part of what they have made from the day.

When the day is gone,

my heart breathes of what tomorrow will be.

"Will it ever be like today, or it will be quite different?"

That's not all that matters,

but a feeling that I am getting closer to my grave.

I remember yesterday today,

and have always felt anxious about today yesterday.

My childhood experience was in yesterday,

my youth is in today,

and my old-age will be in tomorrow.

When today is gone,

all these will be dumped in the dust bin of time.

I sympathize for my soul,

a time when the bell will toll,

and will be left alone through the mile,

my friends and my foes,

my pride and my humility,

will no longer be when the day is gone.

When the day is gone,

and darkness spreads across the sky,

I shall pick my bags and fly-

homewards to all tasks left undone