How did we allow the everyday

[whisperer]

How did we allow the everyday
to dullen the colours of our yesterday 
and dream tomorrow as a better day?
We stopped living in the present day.

Time is an endless funeral parade,
where we don our masks and play our charade,
with painted faces and edited scenes
we've lost the sense of what this all means. 

We don't get to edit. We don’t get to delete.
We don't get to package it all pretty and neat.
We have to do this clumsy and awkward
and stumble and wallow on a faulty word.

But beyond the ugliness of our scars
We get to see the brilliance of our stars.
Standing side by side through the mundane
we are the only thing that keeps us sane. 

I wouldn't do this any other way,
if I get to do it with you every day