I do not mourn over the morning

 

I no longer mourn over the morning. It's bound to come. The sun will rise and 

awaken, despite your pleas for the dawn not to show.  The comfort of your bed and

sleep can seem to relieve your head of its entanglements of thoughts. I no longer

mourn for the morning though. For I know that thoughts will infiltrate your head.

So much so that you struggle to get out of bed. The morning is the new awakening.

It may come in a daze and feel like a faze, but it will return for an eternity.

At least that is what you believe. For that is all you've ever seen. It's better to

embrace the sun breaking into the sky. This is a new day where a sea of

oppurtunities lie. The morning is not about dreaming. The morning is about living.

I find living is better than dreaming. It's no longer about scheming.

I make things happen when I see that light evoking the memory of how day will

refuse to delay. Progress does not come from yesterday. I no longer mourn over

the morning. For this world will keep on turning. I find relief in that, now.

I long to hear the voices of my loved ones. I crave to alter this hurting world

in the morning. I no longer mourn over the morning. I cry out of pure excitment

for its destined arrival.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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