Mourning Morning
Calling is morning
opening your eyes,
shinning to bright and
hiding you lies.
The empty space there
betrays you only slightly
as you remember yesterday;
a kiss taken to lightly.
Fateful were the repercussions
and mournful the reaction
so as morning calls
quickly you flee for traction.
To what quickly went out of control
though no one but the walls
knows for sure
of all your stumbles and falls,
that took their current form
in the guise of loneliness
that took it all away
and made here homeless.
Copyright © Rhia Madison Thomer | Year Posted 2009
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