Bed
Wake me when the coffees on
Our let it nip at my nostrils
Tickle the thought of a rising sun
Just a drop of dew
Time again to be born anew
Breathe
The day is born
But these covers are so inciting
I simply can not go
Wake me when the breakfasts done
The beds too hard to leave
Posted by Richard Handley at 11:35 PM
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