Morning Can Be Hard

Daily beginnings can be drags to endure, Especially when mind is tired and torn, By last night’s late hour adventure. Dragging ‘bod out of bed in the morn, To show up for the job or lecture, Deciding anew what needs to be born. To a writer, empty pages challenge the future, Lines on paper mimic bars of iron. But many have to sit in uneasy furniture, Rushing to end breakfast, provoking the storm. In spite of the cold swimming offers, Take the plunge! Refute the norm! Convert poor prospects to a different creature, Close past wounds, stave further harm. Diving in, sews wounds’ sutures, Commitment alone is frigid, but warms! Staying in bed, not risking failure is sure, To attract the butterfly-net men to swarm!