The curtains tear, open, because of my hands,
which manipulate its material to open for the mornings welcoming glance.
A shower of light, gushes in the dark, sleeping, bedroom,
which spreads like a wildfire, into the gloom.
The room, now new and bright,
has now been set alight, for a new day to arrive.
My eyes, have now adjusted to the blinding spell,
which the sun casts on our world.
My legs, had now moved,
to the door, on the other side of the room,
where my first step will begin, for this new day,
which like any other day is unique and beautiful.
I hate mornings, way to bright, like a fire wants to eat me alive. ;(