scodova poem
the thoughts of a college student wearing the clothes of a poem.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
A Wasted Day
Today I spent,
In wasted way.
Used not my sense.
Charged not, minds rent.
I’ve often Heard,
Cherish the day.
Yet not this word,
My brain had churned.
So in last hope,
Else done is day,
And guilt to cope,
This here I wrote.
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