My Day

I get up in the morning, with a spring in my feet,

Grateful for another day, as I hit the street.

Selling my wares, which is nothing but me, 

I don't sell myself short - settle to just be. 

I start my day, like a solemn ritual,

Gracefully enduring- the feeling is mutual,

The day tolerates, my whims and fancies, 

At the end of the day, am I my Nemesis?

As the evening falls, I'm dulled into a lull,

My spark is spent - how and where, I mull.

Nothing accomplished, nothing to talk about, 

Except, that I am still myself- without doubt.

 

As the night deepens, I can sleep like a log,

I've lived the day on my terms- and that's why I rock!