I love the morning breeze of my city
The leaves dance on the branches of the trees
It carries the smell of newly brewed coffee
And freshly baked, ready-to-serve pastries
The seagulls fly over the salty lake
Their cries almost telling me to get up
I shrug off the blanket, fully awake
Go to the kitchen to grab a teacup
Hot steam rising from the cup: soul warming
I glance down to the street from my window
Shop owners sitting on low stools, smoking
A man stepping out of his old condo
This is my city, with its old towers
This is my city, in its morning hours
The leaves dance on the branches of the trees
It carries the smell of newly brewed coffee
And freshly baked, ready-to-serve pastries
The seagulls fly over the salty lake
Their cries almost telling me to get up
I shrug off the blanket, fully awake
Go to the kitchen to grab a teacup
Hot steam rising from the cup: soul warming
I glance down to the street from my window
Shop owners sitting on low stools, smoking
A man stepping out of his old condo
This is my city, with its old towers
This is my city, in its morning hours



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