Mornings are always broken
It's raining  razor blades again
Cotton wool bombs live in my head
Mornings are dead just dead.
Mornings rear there ugly heads
Crows have eaten my eyes
Imagination is all I have
My body just tells me lies.
Mornings cry cocooned in my mind
Broken morn,when you are blind
Would it have been better to rest in peace
Than suffer as I do in a worn out fleece.
Weary of the razor blades
And bombs of cotton wool
Raging insanity of a barbwired bull
Please let me curl up and slowly die
My mornings are pergatory and the sun Shall not cry