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A Beautiful Morning... for One
When you awake, your fumes always escape,
And I lie with X's over my eyes.
It makes me wonder, as I am going under,
Is this how some people die?
You get out of bed, scratching your head,
And I gasp for one final breath.
You flick on a light, and go from my sight,
To your throne, as if on a nest.
From that little room, you create such doom,
And I struggle to open my eyes.
A shake of the ground, and a rumbling sound
Filtering from the other side.
Turning of pages, reading of races,
You continue to excavate.
The fumes are dancing, your mind is prancing,
And I suddenly realize my fate.
A distant singing, maybe bells ringing,
I must be reaching my end...
No it's your phone, I chill to the bone,
At the thought of the door open.
A loud swooping flush, my mind in a rush!
Your footsteps are growing near.
The door is in flight, a bright flood of light,
Your blurry silohette appears!
Standing alone, you answer your phone,
Your back facing the bed.
The fumes are released, I'm not yet deceased,
As I quickly cover my head!
Hanging it up, you start rubbing your gutt,
Then turn to me adoring.
Left with no mind, and barely alive...
I realize.. it's morning.
