By Andrew R. Duckworth
Another day, the clock strikes noon,
The sun’s approach to horizon soon,
In the winter when the logs burn
In the fireplace as the cogs turn.
Another day, paper hot off the press
And the children already packed and dressed
For another day to go to learn
And play at school as the cogs turn.
Another day, a big news break,
Just seeing how much more you’ll take
Because the public has become too stern
On certain issues as the cogs turn.
Another day, testing your goodwill
As they poke and prod until
You’ve chosen what you will discern
From headlines as the cogs turn.
Another day, the clock strikes ten
And, my, what a day it’s been,
And struggles are not of your concern
As you rest your head as the cogs turn.