MorningSon

M0rning Poem

I w0ke early one morning
The earth lay c0ol and still
When suddenly a tiny bird
Perched 0n my window sill
He sang a s0ng so lovely
S0 carefree and so gay
That sl0wly all my troubles
Began t0 slip away
He sang 0f far off places
Of laughter and 0f fun
It seemed his very trilling
br0ught up the morning sun
I stirred beneath the c0vers
Crept sl0wly out of bed
Then gently shut the wind0w
And crushed his fucking head.

I'm n0t a morning person.