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I wake up, the day looms over my bed,
The day of chance.
I wanted to eat but couldnt
I wanted a drink but couldnt
With my stomach empty and my mouth dry
The day began.
I walked into the building, it was cold and dry,
I could taste the fear on my breath and in the air,
And it stayed in my mouth,
I wanted to wash it out but I couldnt.
I go to the room, white.
Walls, ceiling, and floor, white.
The sheets pressed down like paper,
And the pillow was like a stone.
I look up at the ceiling tiles
As they start to fade,
I take my last look of the day,
Then black.
I woke up in a daze with a haze in my mind,
Confusion knocked on the door, and said it was time
And then, red.
Red from my mouth.
The sheets turned red, along with the bed
The walls, ceiling and floors, red.
My life flows down the black wet drain,
And so Im back in the building
Thats cold and dry.
Although i cant taste the fear this time
Because i can hardly open my eyes,
And everytime i open my mouth, red.
Im back on a new bed, white.
Same paper sheets, same stone pillow,
And i look back at the ceiling tiles again,
I see faces, faces of the dead,
And I take another last look of the day.
I wake up and confusions here again,
Along with my family and some friends.
And now I can taste the fear again.
Everyones so gloomy, why?
Did the red almost bleed me dry?
Not as dry as my mouth i think
On that day of chance.
But everyday is the same song and dance,
Everyday is a day of chance.
Blaine McCanless
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