hope is for the morning, but i don’t wake up until noon.

I miss the days when I woke up to pink and orange skies; sun beaming in my eyes — couldn’t fall back asleep even if I tried,

That’s okay, I liked it.

And I like to believe it was simpler then; when bills were my friends — on-time payments again and again, I felt strong because I could pay them,

now, we’re enemies — spent too much on luxuries; quick fixing remedies, sign said “HAPPINESS GUARANTEED …”

Don’t blame me… I’m trying.

Such innocence, such youth — such a pain to know the truth — life’s a pottery class and we’re the clay and everything we are is because someone shaped us this way.

We’ve been shaped this way…

And now I wake as the sun sets, pour my coffee with what little I have left, and try to live another day.

I’m trying. This life, it’s not easy; certainly, you must believe me.

I’m trying.

I promise, I’m trying.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s