I wake to the sound of war
hope for someone fighting.
I look out on the street,
it's empty.
Make through another dawn
drowning in your problems.
They're mine.
Why can't I stay close enough to
feel what's wrong and what's right?
No exit.
Every choice is tied to morning sickness,
mayhem is all for who cares to breathe
and any excuse good for serving cowardice.
I wake to the sound of joy
hope for someone laughing
I check inside the house
full of death.
Despite these stains
I always dream of my youth.
Suddenly everything aged a whole lifetime.