early morning
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It's golden hour of gold leaf fall,
Sun half provoked,
It's half shadowed wall,
Sun half provoked.
Every morning there is a choice.
Get up,
or
get rest.
Give up,
or
fight.
Let the trill continue to ring,
Keeps me on my toes like a dancer
Watch my words curtsey at the end of each line
Enunciating as if my words didn't fall short with country
Not ready to confess, but I'll write
