Sun

21 4 0
                                    

must i arise every dawnto do nothing but shine upon

and warm all those who shiver

i, a scorching giver

and rarely am i truly praised 

seldom i am looked upon my rays seep through the cloudy haze 

the foggy mist of early dawn

but no one seems to thank my presence

scarcely do they think me pleasant

often just a searing blister

only wanted in the winter

for that is when they realize

they miss my warming rays

they crave the brilliant, sunny skies

a sparkle through the gloomy haze

if i should leave, would they care?

would they be left beyond repair?

only deep in snow they seethat they, in fact, do need me


Copyright ©Brooklyn Cruz | Year Posted 2019


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