On good days, it shines.
On bad days, it shines.
When all hell is breaking loose and everyone has left me alone, and the love of my life runs off with the kids, it still shines.
When Paster Al has just preached a sermon about the world coming to an end and the good lord returning to save us, it still shines.
When a drive by shooting takes the life of innocent people and I take a bullet to the leg, tormented, disgraced and defeated, there it is rising in the eastern sky with not a care in the world, shining.
When a war breaks out in the Middle East and millions of people get killed, that darn sun still shines.
When the doctor tells me that mom has got cancer and she’s tipped over drunk with a cigarette in her mouth in the living room for some reason the sun still shines.
When I’m broke, hot, and out on the streets with no where to go, there’s that sun rising in the eastern sky, for some mysterious reason the sun never sleeps.
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