Thursday, April 10, 2008

The Morning

Shrill piercing noises,
Ring through my head,
I open my eyes
And wish I were dead

Six in the morning,

Did I even sleep at all?
I feel sick and get up,
And make my way to the hall.

"Why do I do this?"
I think to myself.
But my eyes are still shut,
And I run into my shelf.

-Scott Daily

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