The Morning I Grew Sober
The morning I grew sober was like none other before.
One day the snow was heavy, and the next my worries had ceased.
I was a new man: outspoken instead of quiet, kind instead of moody.
Day after day, I waited, for I knew it had to be somewhere close.
I sit here, watching through the window, forevermore.
There is no disease like mine.
This poem is about:
Me