Blaring alarm shrilled in my ear
Waking me up to another
Hopeful day of writing, creating.
The cock has not yet crowed.
My crown is still cocked,
and my brain is too lazy to think.
Still, my hand clutches the pen,
with my eyes still shut tight,
my fingers move the pen to write.
As the sun keeps rising up,
my mind starts clearing up,
but there is no time to read.
The setting sun brings peace.
Kitchen closed, kids asleep,
I creep back to my notebook.
The writing in those morning hours
are not always bleak and barred.
Sometimes, a line shines a little bit
and I know it is all worth it.