Cold December Morning

| Posted in , , , , , | Posted on 11:40 PM

It's another cold December morning.
The sunlight peeps in through the window,
And prepares to greet me, even though
It knows it is hardly welcome.
Thankfully, there is still some time
Before the lonesome darkness is gone.

I've closed my eyes again;
Sometimes, staring at the ceiling fan just
Doesn't help your motivation levels at all.

I'm off to dreamland again.
Partial, disturbed sleep takes me there.

Happier times; happier faces.
But it's dreamland,
So everything's censored to my mind's comfort.
The sadder parts are gone.

Good, bad, ugly.
Happy, sad, and unbothered.
And it's dreamland.
So only the best parts are remembered;
There are no bad qualities.

All sorts.
Every kind imaginable.
And it's dreamland.
But that changes nothing;
Everything is the same,
However sweet, stingy or saddening;
The bridge between the real and the unreal.

And sunlight bursts in, and my eyes open.
I'm back from dreamland,
And the ceiling fan greets me with a blank stare.


I'd written this sometime last year, presumably on a 'cold December morning'.
I didn't like it enough when I wrote it though, still don't; but I figured, 'Eh, what the hell?'

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