Mornings
Abruptly awoken, The sky is pure golden,
My mother has spoken, and no one is scolding,
“Rise and shine, It’s approaching time!”
Now I just awake to the dreary chime…
Alone in the morning, there was no warning,
Merely the horning and fallacious “informing”.
Oh, the times I ascended at nine,
It was divine, I shouldn't've whined.
This poem is about:
Me
My family
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