Sunday Morning

The buzzing alarm wakes you from rest,
the day is reset;
swipe the phone,
check the net.

The sun is shining upon the dew
waiting for you;
but you ball up inside,
as if you were plagued by the flu.

Hours fly by,
while you lay inside;
nature living without you.

Brown leaves falling,
flowers withering,

they stand waiting for you to save them.