Morning's Drowsy Doom


Walking through a forest of lighter strawberry hues

a sign pops down besides me:

'Wake-Up' or hit 'Snooze'?


Ten more minutes, Please!

I'll wake up when the clock screams:

"You only have half the time you need!"


There I battle monsters and things of the depth

here I battle the notion of pushing back sheets

of fighting the cold and lifting my feet.


I almost dare to shut my eyes

but the sound of grinding beans is my demise,

and my silly thoughts of sleep in are smashed apart by coffee's sin.


My old machine is spewing charm

whining an anthem of morning routine

my very own mocking bird of drowsy doom.


I struggle to find my favorite cup

splash in drops of half and half

and sip until my brown eyes pop, its ten past nine.



Dear God I'm Fucked!






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