Treasure Island

Walter C. Edwards


Morning Blues


I am waking up,
with those morning blues,
again, said old friend,
looking into the mirror,
out to face the world,
a sad speck, a dot, a number,
then home again to sleep,
to slumber, only to face,
the repeating chorus,
of that drudgery,
that sick dinged,
misery I call my life.

Submitted: Saturday, January 04, 2014
Edited: Monday, January 06, 2014
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