My true morning error.

Written by: Bellantony De Mertens

Morning breaks my restful sleep and 
guides me to my need.
I try to move as fast I can but my
bladder seems to lead.

At last the room is now revealed, the porcelain
dome in site.
I gaze upon the dimming tiles by 
now reflect the light.

So now I make way downstairs in
search of something hot.
My yearning grows as I look around,
but there's nothing in the pot.

Now were's that woman, that hag
the crone.
Never has she let me down or left 
me all alone.

Lazy now, I try to bring, my senses
back around.
This task is mighty daunting without 
that boiling sound.

I Step outside and stretch my limbs, screams  
are all around.
What is up with all this noise, I want a
peaceful sound.

I rub my eye's and look about, to try
and catch the fool.
So now I blush and see them all,
staring at my tool.