All the Same

No, it’s not just a change
To get less of the same.
More of the same is still

Change. Hard for parts of speech,
But we do what we can.
We can wait. All the same,

Those we serve, which means you,
Can’t. Are you one of those
Who counts the days? Are you

More prone to count them down
Or tot them up? The days
Are the most same of all

Things that change, and they can
Feel like they could be swapped,
In some lives, like loose change,

But you can’t. You get this,
Do you not? You get this
Day, and what you think, not

The days you thought you had,
Not the next. And if this
Feels like more of the same

Or less and less, like grains,
It’s the same sort of change.
See? We try. But it’s hard

For parts of speech to tell
You this, all the same. Sun
On small stones casts small shades.