The morning sun peeks through the blinds, wanting in,
I reach my hands up and dance with swirling specks of dust,
Mindlessly, like a headless animal cracker,
Wandering and wondering, a roundabout,
I want to speak but there's a glass shard in my mouth,
And these words find no exit out;
These thoughts fade like fabric in years of sun,
Gossamer dreams that are never within reach...
The morning sun peeks through the blinds, wanting in.
