mornings.
explosions of
yellowhot Hope
across the sky,
upon us all,
they say.
what can I say?
how can I a child of Gloom
ever so truly say I know
the Light they speak of, when
I can’t find it deep inside?
when it can only cast me as
a lone shadow against
the beaming face of Life?
I know I am nothing more
I can’t be more
consequential than that.
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