Good Morning/Bad Morning
I am destroying my body with my questioning mind.
I sit awake at 6:40am on this supposed Monday morning.
The coffee shop awaits its patrons
My stomach awaits sleep.
My brain is shriveled from being awaked to long
And my knees are jack-hammered
after 21 straight hours of on the feet labor
Hip-hop is put on hold for this old dog,
Now just 22 years old.
Early morning sky illuminates this sad square
And taps its foot rhythmically
Until the sheeple shove their way
Through a turn-styled gate (which ever is closest) and feed.
Only the sad time
trapped by the lack of forethought,
forgotten in empty lots
Laughs at the great hula-hoop of karma
Crashing down Elm street
Without making a sound.
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