Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Sunday Morning Rush

Early morning, dark and dreary,
my bones are tired, my mind is weary.
Been up all night for my day of work,
now I'm greeting people with a playful smirk.
A coffee for her, some smokes for him,
I can feel my smirk become a grin.
They come and go at their own pace,
some sluggish and slow, others like they're in a race.
The movement's constant in my little store
and though I ache, I yearn for more,
for to touch a life, though briefly, true,
can brighten any day, when I'm feeling blue.

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