Days are bland

Like oatmeal on a rainy morning

No raisins or apples and cinnamon

Just oatmeal

We weave in and out of the days

Barely knowing what day it is

Monday might be Wednesday

Before you know it

It's time to rake the leaves

And you thought you just planted the spring flowers

The days are like oatmeal

Mushing together

Nothing special

No raisins or apples

Bland

Like oatmeal days