The Struggle

Lying still amid one more morning mirth,

Just another unrewarding slumber,

All my energies naught but dreams and dearth,

Speculating if my days are numbered,

Oh, just how delightful would be the ease,

If I just turned and refused to rise up,

To let these haggard hardship hours breeze,

And remain in this pillowy lockup,

But then my heart begins to beat and throb

My eyes open and the blue starts to burn

This is a new day and I shan’t be robbed,

To move, to fight, to win, to live; I yearn,

Today the morning struggle has been won

Upon my feet; there is work to be done!