Day and Day by Tracy Matthews

Day and day, repetition has me in autopilot mode.
It’s the same faces,
the same struggle of life that brought these same people here.
As I lay and venture I hear chest beating and words from the AM buzz.
Day and day, repetition has me in mode of autopilot.
The same reading of wisdom in morning and night.
three times a week meetings of freedom and hope.
As I take that walk in mind
I escape this binding bondage.
Day and day, repetition has me in mode of autopilot.
It is the same meals of distasteful nutrition
underserved by others in the
same orders and forms of conviction.
As I sit at that four stooled table thinking just don’t shake that ladle.