Morning Glory

Barely awake I trudge through the city streets,
The sights and smells are my alarm clock,
Walking in a haze, I witness the nights slumber as the dawn starts its day,
The yawning of the sun,
I watch the moon shut its eyes,
and drift away,
The smell of success lives in the morning,
Coffee beans and last nights whisky,
I hear the slight whisper of life,
Feverishly trying to get ahead of its day,
We all enjoy the twilight of the night,
With a sense of purpose and give and take,
A fragile balance,
When morning becomes noon,
I feel at peace.

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