I wake and get ready,
I pray and then eat,
I hope and then sleep,
I dream,
I work,
I drive,
I survive,
but in America,
The America I dream of,
I wake and walk to the window,
I greet the sun before walking onto my balcony,
where I smile and shout,
"'Good Morning America, How are ya?'" (Inspiration from City Of New Orleans)
and the bird sing their song,
I love my job,
I love my home,
then I get snapped back into reality,
a grey apartment complex,
'Good Morning America,' Where are you?
YOU ARE READING
Into The Abstract
PoesiaPoetry and thoughts that have plagued my mind. Not all of it was saved, but some of it was, so here it is lovelies.
