Foresee the day ahead of me, <br />the is rising again, <br />and all that was a burden to me, <br />is flying, again. <br />What was that? A day to me? <br />One that I can use? <br />To make my dreams come true? <br />Or to see bruised leaves fall.<br /><br />Rebecca Stansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/which-day/
