PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

So starts the day as the one to come, and the one that's passed before;

The fog hangs thick and dreary like I'm snowed in monthly, yearly,

And I swing out begrudging, weakly out and onto my carpet floor. 

Silence fills the vastly spaces as I trudge down sleepy, faceless,

Wandering down the cold wood hallways till I reach my coffee drawer. 

And life is drunk in habit. 

The fog hides outsides wonder as I break my mindless slumber

And I realize I've no plans as to how to fill my hours. 

My family's around me; ghosts of ideas much too flowery,

And sleep turns out to numbness as my hope for this day sours. 

And so I retreat to confines alone to address some pleasures known. 

I shall fill this day as I have the ones before.