Good Morning to You Too

September 26, 2009

The dawn is not a kind and warm embrace

Leaving the arms of a warm night's dream

Lifting the covers off insecurities that slumber

Fog creeps up to the window like a peeping Tom

The air is a stale cold that bites harder than its bark

I'm thrown out of bed like a murderer in exile

I need to pay my ransoms to the real world

I'm divorced from my pillow as it forgets my form