Mornings I really fear and dread.
Upon my feelings, his bickerings tread.
The hurt so painful is, to wake up I dread

That very thought of again being hurt scares me.
A dose of admonitions I get, with my cup of tea.
Instead of brightness, boring dullness n pain I see.

Lord , what do I look forward to, tell me please.
Suffer I every morning, from this horrid disease.
From this awful fear of the mornings; me, please release.

Armin Dutia Motashaw