Leave me like past eventide
and reoccur like morningtide
so that I can rest in the faith
of seeing you one more time.
There's nothing good about it.
I say that to everyone. Literally every day.
I am not a morning person.
Morning kisses and your arms. That what I want.
‘Well, it was indeed
a very long association,
But it needs to end.
I will have to usher you out
to welcome my new friend.
Her name is ‘morning’.
So goodbye, darling!”
From a weary, but determined Me
to the long, dark, night that refused to end.
A poem from my upcoming debut book 'IshQn & SomeOne'.
I remember her as she was in the morning
limbs soft, unending
entangled within a cloud of cotton sheets
hair wild, rampant
a halo surrounding her porcelain features
eyes brilliant, welcoming
blinking away the dreams of a night passed
Good morning angel.
You are a sleepy marvel.
I'll fighting with my self to love you.
It's sunday morning
Doing nothing is kinda boring
Pouring rhymes inside my brain
Writing line from the pain
Feeling ache through my vein
From the moment I wake
And stop breathing haste beneath ceiling fans
How I wish to create
Though I cannot always due to morning fog
And its mind over me
How it strongly takes
Two cups at least
How I Feel
I eat my morning cake of chocolate.