Early Mornings Poem by Steven Harris

Early mornings are the worst
as soon as you open your eyes
the power of the sun hits your
face
the pain of the night before becomes
apparent
gone too far
and the question today is
what to do
what plans are there today
and theres no plans
it's just going to be one long crawl
through the mud of boredom
through the dirt and the muck
the myth is, being creative will help
speed up the day
that won't happened at all because
i haven't got through breakfast yet
maybe something creative will
spill out of the brain and on to
a piece of paper
or a writing machine of some
kind
that myth might just be true
but lets get through this bacon
sandwich
this light beer
and this extremely weak tea
maybe that rumour then
might fall into the arms of
some special someone
or crawl out from under the bed.