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

Orange

Orange is my hero
It declares its presence in the crayola box
The intensity dominates less pleasing pigments

Orange stands up for what it believes
It demands attention amidst the dull landscape
Excitement flows in its footsteps

Orange gets into trouble
It can be ornery
Sometimes it speaks a bit too loudly

Orange told me he enjoys being devious
It breaks every rule before it abides
He told me he is wanted in twelve states

Orange lives next door to yellow and red
It makes peace between its neighbors, tranquility and anger
Orange is a squatter in my heart


- Scott Daily