The Pain of Morning


The pain is setting in-
The pain of the
Gentle, reaching rays
Adorned with pearls of dew
That begin to replace the stars
From east to west, a diamond for a pearl.
The pain of the
Careful, peach lines
Painted across my walls,
Brushed to move with the
Breeze through the blinds.
The pain we all dread
When we go to bed
In beautiful peace.
The morning is always a
Painful process of proceeding
To pursue tomorrow.

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