I gather days like manna
Free gifts of time left like dew
I'll taste it tomorrow
My busy hands declare
I'll flavor it and bake it
Add to it, tomorrow.
You see Manna is not very delicious
it begins to taste mundane
But in the morning the manna
Is a molded testimony to my delinquency
While waiting for the flavor and taste
My own heart craved I starved
My own soul from it's intended sustenance.
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