The Morning

After scribbling and crossing out, we have a day full of words on a paper, the words don't make sense and are written all over a dirty piece of paper. I must start a new, so I lay my head down on a fresh pillow and cover myself in a warm blanket where that dirty paper cannot harm me.
The night has a swaying sort of motion, as if it were not meant for me. The night looks as though it is a dark blanket covering over the sky so scandalous behavior can presume. So I close my eyes to a new day.
And to my surprise, there is a new fresh piece of paper for me. The morning is a new day, a day to try again. The air is crisp, the animals prepare for another survival and people recover from their last battle.
So no matter what monsters may attack me during the day, before I make any final rash decisions, I decide to lay my head down and wait for the morning so I can give this world one more chance.