This cold winters' morn the beams of Amber light shine on the ceiling, I lie awake seeing the dull tones of a familiar room, with dread in mind.
A disheveled soul dreading this daily grind of meat and bone lazily I glance to the left all weary eyed, the digital reads on the alarm bleating these digital tones
the time 5.38.
This reluctant soul awoke from the crypt of familiarity, after scowling my dusty room another day in misery of a soulless life.
dragging my feet like a husk to the window, thrash the curtains open a tired look scowls my face, as all light alludes I crow
“to early today to early hmf'
With dread in mind I dress in the same droves of an entrapped suit grumbling downstairs, sipping another tasteless cup of barely satisfying coffee condemned
to the life of yesterday and tomorrow as I leave the last door.
I glare at the gray sky around matching my miserable life of repetition, thus another day in the capital, the vultures of business the metropolitan grind...
© All Rights Reserved