.
.
.
THAT ROSY FEELING OF HOPE
.
.
I like to get up early
Before Dawn
When the sky is still
Pitch black night
Then I drink coffee, watching and waiting
For the first hint of light
The first sign
That this glorious, terrifying, wonder-filled Earth
Will have another day, another chance
Because nothing, nothing, is guaranteed
.
.
.
.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment