A Nighttime Ago

Tasting the daily cares I pass, There the gladdest of moods, Then I wanted to leave today, Pieces of a measuring basket, Whenever there goes a whim, I trace all the nightly burdens, Downwards in the lights were, A perfectly heightened waste, A pathway; whichever is only, There to traipse a daily week, A hugely burdened soft beat, And have kept a stolen ache!