Listening to poetry can be soothing and more readily apparent.
Enjoyed this one as well:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/features/audioitem/229

Let us see what the day brings
and hope we have the strength of mind
to guide our decisions well
let our hearts be pure in thought
and watch over those we love
let challenges be overcome
that we may smile at days end
with those we hold closest
let us celebrate life this day
as we stand together
let us see what the day brings
unafraid and ready for anything
Matthew Holloway

BY CARSON ROBINSON

Sun comes up and the sun goes down.
The hands on the clock keep goin' around.
I just get up an' it's time to lay down.
Life gets teejus, don't it?

My shoe's untied but I don't really care.
I ain't a-figurin' on goin' nowhere.
I'd have to wash an' comb my hair.
That's just wasted effort.

Water in the well's gettin' lower an' lower.
Can't take a bath for six months or more
But I've heard it said, and it's true I'm sure,
That too much bathin'll weaken' you.

I open the door an' the flies swarm in.
I shut the door an' I'm sweatin' again.
I move too fast an' I crack my shin.
Just one durn thing after t'other.

My old brown mule, he must be sick.
I jabbed him in the rump with a pin on a stick.
He humped his back, but he wouldn't kick.
There's somethin' cockeyed somewhere.

There's a mouse a-chawin' on the pantry door.
He's been at it for at least a month or more.
When he gets through there he's sure goin' to be sore.
[Chuckles] There ain't a durn thing in there.

Hound dog howlin', he's so folorn.
Laziest dog that ever was born.
He's howlin' 'cause he's a-sittin' on a thorn —
Just too tired to move over.

Tin roof leaks an' the chimney leans.
There's a hole in the seat of my ol' blue jeans.
An' I've et the last of them pork an' beans.
Jus' can't depend on nuthin'.

Cow's gone dry an' the hens won't lay.
Fish quit bitin' last Saturday.
Troubles pile up, day by day —
Now I'm gettin' dandruff.

Grief an' misery, pains an' woes.
Debts an' taxes, an' so it goes.
And I think I'm gettin' a cold in the nose …
Ah, life gets tasteless, don't it?

Beverly,
We need a little guidance, on this one. We have come up with way too many possibilities, and no way to narrow them down, to his aim.

before the storm

you stay indoors
surrounded by ghosts
photographs
pictures
paintings
your beating heart
a ticking clock
suggesting time has passed
safe in your cocoon
muffled howls barely sounding through the walls
the same shrieking ice wind
that assaults my ears
and makes corned beef
of my skin
as I cling to my brush
my pink and purple fuschia fist
whitewashing the walls
in broad blustery strokes

defiantly
I am meditating
I sense stars hidden
behind a rush of dark clouds
behind a glimpse of blue skies
I've been arrested
by this moment
nature has me surrounded
in its sights
and you're a million miles from me
far beyond the wet paint
in your isolation tank
lost to your own thoughts
picturing a perfect day perhaps
immune to the making of another one
oblivious to the fact
that outside
amidst the wild and beautiful foreplay
of the storm
you lost me
in the ether
of forever

- Sid Bear

What if he was like the old song "A million miles away" and was singing to a star?
nap