The Days Come Poem by Shalom Freedman

THE DAYS COME

The days come
In which there is no gladness in them
And all speech is a sounding of sorrow only
And pain is everywhere
And no light comes to comfort the lonely
And irritation and anger and frustration and fear
Rule
And there is no love in anything
The days come
When life loses its flavor
And all is simply a jumble of inchoate thoughts and despairings
The days come
When all is gone
And one is alive
Only to suffer in them.