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Literature Text
Eyes open to a new day,
brightness still held at bay
at the horizon of dawn.
Pulled by chariots of gold,
the sun ascends to its rightful place,
casting its orange ire
upon our gleaming spires
of glass and steel.
On roads, lingering with the night
and the waste of our world,
we trudge towards the start of our lives
with hearts closed and mouths too muted to speak out
at the approaching atrocities that will greet us today.
brightness still held at bay
at the horizon of dawn.
Pulled by chariots of gold,
the sun ascends to its rightful place,
casting its orange ire
upon our gleaming spires
of glass and steel.
On roads, lingering with the night
and the waste of our world,
we trudge towards the start of our lives
with hearts closed and mouths too muted to speak out
at the approaching atrocities that will greet us today.
Suggested Collections
Look it in the eyes, clench your teeth, and mutter the words of "not today".
The Coffee Mornings Gallery
Coffee anyone?
The Coffee Mornings Gallery
Coffee anyone?
Dread Mornings and Pricey CoffeeMornings
are a tired trope,
overused like a piece of old rope
that trudges around
in all its pneumatic glory,
parading like a king,
can't it see its folly,
for walking on a string?
It takes a great patience
to endure its icy stings,
that spill forth from metal hoses,
and the drudge of cold muscles;
I am wound in tape,
too strong to break.
There is little solace
in the light of the day,
and equal bleakness
in the black water
that sits in front of my face,
they call it coffee;
but I know it as the price to pay,
to unshackle these chains
of yesterday.
© 2014 - 2024 Timothi-Ellim
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