Tired
the next sunrise has announced its presence.
The harsh beams of light
breaking beneath my eyelids
wakes me
always just so.

Pining my days
I await the rude awakening
of the next day.

As time continues its sprint
until eternity.

Holding hope,
possibilities ignite in
an abrupt flash.

Wrinkles gather slowly,
years pass.

The sunrise remains as years
lose themselves in the demands of society,
feeling abandoned and betrayed by their owner.

Hope for today, he said
tomorrow will always be.