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Mundane Morning

7:00 Sharp
and not a moment later
is when the morning starts
when that alarm goes off ringin'
and the sounds of Mufasa,
our departed king
permeate the air.
of course,
that's also when
the war starts

between me,
and myself
the subconceous
and the real

it's fierce combat, really
-when the world wants you
to do something
you feel anxious,
surrounded; afraid
and under the pressure
of the whole fucking
like the nazis
in the final hours
of 1946.

sure, i manage
to hold on a little longer
fifteen, thirty sometimes

depending on how many times
I hit that
snooze button
but that doesn't stop
the morning air
from receiving my presence.

I wake up,
and stare upon this fucking
world I feel,
I can never love
my stomach - restless
from last nights
cigarette and coffee

then I wonder,
as I take my first sip
of morning joe
and my first sip of
"why did I even
bother waking up
on this god fucksaken
mundane morning?"

but there is never an answer
I guess every morning
is a mundane morning
without a god in the sky
or an angels face to
wake up to.
maybe she could
show me


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