So it's a beautiful morning.
And most of us are still yawning.
It is then the reality is dawning...
On us, that there is so much to be doing.
Then our sleepy and blurry eyes start clearing.
We sit up and start praying.
Our dreams now start replaying.
We become lungless and stop breathing.
As we figure where everything is leading.
We write some off and on some we start building.
Yes, all this in this wonderful morning.
YOU ARE READING
Miss Independent's diary (Her unreserved feelings)
PoetryNothing much,just my diary written in poetic language....Leave a vote if you like a poem or relate to it lol
