The morning after
a regular night with a nip in the air
and dreams of the coming morrow's care.
The morning after
a sumptuous meal that followed a drink
and conversation and company's clink.
The morning after
the chilling of many street-dwellers' bones,
for which the warm morning sun atones.
The morning after
a whole day's choices and sub-conscious voices
that slowly became ignorable noises.
The morning after
a full day's toil of truth and lies
and helium plans that hope to rise.
The morning after
a silent night of truthful sleep
where falsehoods and illusions cannot creep.
The morning after
the passions of head-boards, sheets and pillows
as a healthy expression of screams and bellows.
The morning after
a story of conflicts and resolutions;
of wanton sins and their absolutions.
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