Blank Paper, Sharp Pencil

I would greet the sun

but he’s not up yet

 

I am the sun’s rooster

pedals pumping

on the empty morning trail

spokes twirling

miles flying

energy high

 

But some days my dreams

are better than Reality™

and I curl up

tight

in my sheets

hanging onto foggy giddy nonsense for

just a few more minutes

 

And those days,

the sun, Mr. Sun

greets me

prods me

until I get up

 

When I do, I’m glad I got up

The day is young yet

and still full of its promise

blank paper ready, pencil laid out

ready to go

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