There's sorrow and pain
Wherever we want to go,
We search thoroughly in vain
To prosper and grow;
What will become of this
For nothing is too far fetched,
Onward thought a mere wish
Bleaked out and stretched.
Gray clouds in much rain
The days too lost to know,
A turning wheel ah here again
Something that's a while ago;
Too many things it then is
Through with past time etched,
One of those little reminisce
Unimportant and outstretched.
There's sorrow and pain
In the house down the row,
Ordinary life and strain
TV taboos and scarecrow;
All we cannot ordinarily dismiss
Brought to mind and sketched,
With dissatisfaction and hiss
The many things we retched.