That Fateful Morn

May 24, 2011
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The morning comes hence
The blaring alarm clock screams,
Bells, and whistles, crowing roosters galore.
In yet, I still sleep.

My mom comes in
Saying, wake up! wake up! you’ll miss the buss if you don’t get up!
But I just roll over,
And put my head under my pillow.

The fiery yellow sun peaks over the trees.
It shines, illuminating my face.
But my little world; behind my eyes,
Remains black.





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