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On a Friday Morning The sky comes through my window And my alarm sounds, But I ignore it. My dampened hair Sticks to my forehead And the birds chirp outside Over the noisy whistling of the jackhammer "I don't think I'll go to work today," Is what keeps running through my Morning-busy, Not-so-busy mind And I go back to sleep An hour later, I get a call And I am awake now for sure So I get busy. I have a drink, I don't have breakfast, My roommates stare at me And I bustle to get ready for my plans that just materialized.
0
May 18, 2010
May 18, 2010 at 10:03 AM UTC
Friday Morning
On a Friday Morning The sky comes through my window And my alarm sounds, But I ignore it. My dampened hair Sticks to my forehead And the birds chirp outside Over the noisy whistling of the jackhammer "I don't think I'll go to work today," Is what keeps running through my Morning-busy, Not-so-busy mind And I go back to sleep An hour later, I get a call And I am awake now for sure So I get busy. I have a drink, I don't have breakfast, My roommates stare at me And I bustle to get ready for my plans that just materialized.
2010
Written by
May 18, 2010
May 18, 2010 at 10:03 AM UTC
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