Why do you get up in the morning?

Because there is no choice

In this beautiful train wreck of a marble we live on

Choice is a privilege 

But when the sun breaches the night's reign

And the sky turns into a masterpiece like no other

There is no choice then. 

We must wake up

So, why then, tell me why I must saunter off into another day

Why I must give my being, my heart, myself into one like the rest?

Is is the mourning dove's chirping?

The sad song sung every sunrise about the loss of the moon's love?

Is it the colors of the morning canvas changing and turning into the melancholic blue?

Is it the smell of the morning dew?

Or right after the neighbor cut his grass?

Do we wake up to feel the ground move under our feet

Or the wind through our hair as we travel thousands of miles in our lifetime?

Is it the sights we see

Those beautiful moments that only we will know?

A baby's laugh?

A lover's voice?

A singer's song?

Why must we get up up up out of the comfort of our cocoon?

The content felt when falling off into sleep?

Why must I abandon that and then beg to be a part of it once more when I can no longer walk?

The reason a person can justify leaving the comfort and security of the place known since infancy

Can hardly be called a small miracle

No, when one gets the energy to leave the dreamworld that entraps so many

That is a sight worth seeing.

So maybe that is the reason for waking up

Maybe other discouraged dreamers, perfect sinners, and the best of the worst 

Wake up not for the sights or the sounds or the smell

But instead, they wake up to the thought of others

The thought that they themselves can reasonably claim to be content

Because through the lies, the covers, the justification,

No one can stay in bed all day, and still be okay with the choice.