My day breaks
And I hope no more heart aches
The morning sun shines through my window
And its warmth makes my heart glow
I am alone and sometimes lonely
Gone is my love am by myself only
So i look at the pen upon my table
And think to write if I am able
Will the words flow from my hand?
Or will my lines be boring and bland?
To fill a caption of my day
A kind of joy a kind of play
Like gold dust found in a cavern
Gives my soul a sort of haven
The desire to fill a need
Someone else could read
Now I am alive and kicking
But not as good as Wolf or Dickens
Still putting this morning pen to paper
I know my sadness I can leave till later!