These days

Unearthing a poem I wrote on a bad day

These days
there is no night
there is no day
There’s only this weary continuum
of forgotten dreams
of asking why
of asking what for
of figuring out why life is unfair
Only to find
that there is never an answer
and that sometimes 
there is no lesson
there is no value
All this time
you’ve only had
a predetermined fate
and these days
fate has been unkind.