My days complain of predictability,
ask the reason for my infidelity.
“Why are your mornings so full of hope?
Your romance with the evenings, I cannot cope.”
What do I say to my beloved days
from which I keep by choice away?
I am faithful to the mornings
for its promise of the days.
I am indulgent witht the evenings
for then the days are away.
But how do I explain
the incurability of this pain;
this infidelity, to my beloved days?
Oh, what reasons for choosing to live away!