The better things are found early.
In the early morning, all is well.
In the early morning, leaves are green.
In the early morning, the sky is bright.
In the early morning, the tongue is tasty.
In the early morning, the heart beats a bit.
In the early morning, the eyes look better.
In the early morning, the reasoning is wide.
In the early morning, there is pure air freshness.
In the early morning, there is fine respiration.
And in the early morning, there are good tidings

Can’t escape yourself
Mind, a twisting labyrinth
Loops in on itself

I’m sorry, but who are you?
Did you take my face?
You look like me, but askew
Please don’t take my place.

Colorblind, you see in mournful grey
You speak of all you rue,
Commiserating, I try to say
For you I’d paint the skies blue.

You think yourself invisible
But you are heard, you are seen
Know your fears are divisible
Try and let the grass be green

Quiet your incessant mind
Erase everything they said
Think of all your ties that bind
And don’t let your blood run so red

You are porous,
Blend your voice into a chorus,
Can’t help but wear your heart
On your sleeve, fall apart
So easily, and so frequently
Admittedly, sometimes even gleefully,
Feel every gust of wind;
Even drafts, make you bend,
Warping to all these demands
Making it hard to understand,
Just where others end
And where you begin