Ode to the one thing that makes life bearable
The sun on your face,
From where the curtains don't close,
Find your way through the maze,
That the sandman chose.
The night is long over,
New dawn broke hours ago,
You try to turn over,
But know a lost case when you see one and so;
Turn over one more time, roll over the edge of your beloved bed,
Warm feet hit cold, cold floor,
The tone for a new day is set,
And you stumble through your bathroom door.
Spray of hot water,
Right onto your sleepy (sleeping?) face,
Waking up will have to happen later,
For now everything remains a sleepy haze.
Down the stairs and set the kettle,
On the stove without a thought,
By the table now you settle,
Thinking that you really aught-
A sharp whistle tears sweet silence,
Of your early morning haze,
Breaks through thoughts with early morning violence,
And for the first time, brings a smile upon your face.
As you breathe in the stream,
Of today's first cup of tea,
For the first time it would seem,
Today might actually be a good place to be.
Of your early morning haze,
Breaks through thoughts with early morning violence,
And for the first time, brings a smile upon your face.
As you breathe in the stream,
Of today's first cup of tea,
For the first time it would seem,
Today might actually be a good place to be.
