Day 32 & 33: Two Days of Fall

I missed out on writing for the last two days,and though I was asked about it I didn't really have a good answer. I don't consider writing as one of those tied down activities, that can be done at a fixed time of the day and sometime hardest still to do it everyday, but when I want to touch my pen to the paper or in this case when I sit down to type something on my keyboard I want to relate to you, to those who share the topics I write about and keep hoping for more topics to keep coming. This writing is about the two days of fall I missed out on writing and about the simple pockets of happiness we find in company of those who try. I was joking around today with someone about fear, when I said "Power must not come from fear , power must come from love" and whether power is over someone or because of someone is hard to define. None the less these extended weekends always give me more time to think and so I write to these two days of fall and from the many topics and experiences my friends shared with me. Though some will tell me I cheated with one writing for two days, I hope you excuse my flaw and still find the read meaningful in someway

Two Days of Fall
Here's a long lost letter to the two days of fall, from the beginning to the end,
From the start of the week , and to honest reasons why we never pretend
Here's to the talks by the cafe, I often don't visit anymore,
But the place is still the same, filled with strangers like every before

Two days are all I need, fill my heart and let me simply write,
About the friends who were a phone call away, but did I really dial?
There are those who will walk with you, understand chivalry is far from dead,
That there are reasons we grow up to keep people special, and we don't need one to care

Two days are all I ask, when I find the large bucket of fries are lost in hockey games,
And the real reason we love changing so much, is that we still love to keep things the same
In weary Friday morning alike, I feel losing the game of trust from time to time,
I have come home for a time out , and then to strangers I talk about personal ties

Are my two days same as yours somehow, do you recollect, reflect from time to time,
Do you pass like like the crumpled dollar sign, or is your memory aged like a sweet wine
For me; my days are about warm homes and cooking for those who care, in strangeness I find my family,
For whatever maybe the reason behind,  I have found too many and then too few to set myself free.