deepundergroundpoetry.com
Mourning the mornings.
Every morning, I wake up, I wish I weren't in this place.
Every morning, I wake up, I wish I wasn't this way.
Every morning, I wake up, with the same old rage and pain.
Every morning, I wake up, and I feel just the same.
Every morning, I wake up, until the mornings no longer came.
Every morning, I wake up, I wish I wasn't this way.
Every morning, I wake up, with the same old rage and pain.
Every morning, I wake up, and I feel just the same.
Every morning, I wake up, until the mornings no longer came.
Published 1st Jan 2025
Author's Note
(another older poem)
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