early mornings
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Rise of the morning star,
again searching for lost hope,
dreaming in love that hurts,
enduring to make them smile
at a cost you cant afford
and clearly the worlds cruelity
weighs them to depression ...
Soft pink illuminations trickle through
The thread bare membrane of curtains
Dribbling light down the windows ledge
Six thirty—
Alarm rings;
I text my boyfriend I love him,
And go back to bed.
Six forty five—
Alarm rings again;
And I get out of bed.
Thus begins every school day,
