Morning Mind Matter
It’s half past four in the morning.
Thoughts swirl in my head,
Not one a epiphany.
I can’t help but to wish every day
Radiated the petrichor
That smells like home and happiness.
The susurrus of night swirls in my ears,
So painfully present
I cannot seem to think straight.
Copyright © S. Grace | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment