Friday, July 5, 2013



The morning clicks on
Like a light bulb
As I open my eyes
No subtle shades
Of fading gray
Just angry white,
And when
My eyes cease tearing
Angry blue

I am a spear to cast
Into the sunrise
Shaken in rage
I have no right to feel

I drum my fingers
On the table top
Like a judge does
His gavel
But not wrong

Waking up
And living life
At the extremes
With no subtle gray
Just the flick
Of a switch
to say
what is right
and what
is clearly
and most assuredly


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