Getting There Poem by Smoky Hoss

The sun shines-
or it doesn't.
The day goes good-
or it won't.
You rise and smile-
or you just can't.

No matter;
either way
the alarm groans and the old home
moans,
while in the mirror
water drips down your face
and, like yesterday,
the day will get dirty
the hours beset
and, you'll ask questions without answers.
Still, you will come back.
Come back to this, because
humanity turns...
and turns and turns and turns
on the axle of wonder,
going somewhere
no one knows
nor understands;
but still, always moving,
getting there.