Dear Morning,

January 17, 2018

Dear Morning,

Its rough hand brought my day to night,

I surrendered to it but tried to fight,

For it was late and it was right,

That it was time to say goodnight,

Forever a good night whatever is,

Forges memories me a livid kid,

And now me as a thin old man,

For all my life i hid and ran,

It didnt matter where i went,

It followed me and was content,

It chased me and poison without a hint,

Leaving me with bruise and bloody dent,

Now touching me I try to scream,

But pain inside takes over me,

For now I wish 'tis be a dream,

But in a casket dead is me.

Now i am alone,

To recede in my sins,

Quarreling with myself,

Nights I cry out for help,

For they mumble to me,

When i try to be asleep,

A sleep is my torture,

Morning please release me.

Yours,

Deceased

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