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That Fateful Morn
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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