Our Days Are Clearly Well-Known

A week has seven days And they vanish in many ways Simply because each has its own time In being spent without spending just one dime... The first day is like the other day Simply because that's our way With these days of ours... We get up everyday as is And we close the same day as is Simply because we don't have anything to do... Our seventh days are useless Simply because they're restless, but Without any good benefits... Instead of turning our good days Into brilliant days, but We waste them in that ugly tittle-tattle About so-and-so or About such-and-such for The sake of such-and-such... They are our seventh days, but Regretfully we can not benefit from them Greatly and wonderfully Simply because we have other trivial issues We focus on them in vain.... ______________________________________________________________________