the morning poem
grey clouds grin
I wake, from slumber;angels shameful tears greet the street outside my window
Dark grey clouds, persist and haunt;demons scour this plane for waters widow
Rising to my feet, the day begins dark;life dreams shallow of a better time
Images of a dispersing dream, fading;none can rest when lifes not aligned
Clothes donned, looking alive;eyes thrive on the receding pulse of mornings rush
A heartbeat thuds, as there’s no more time;cold this shove of natures need for hush
(2013)
A poem inspired by bad weather in the morning
