Funky Morning Sonnet

Some mornings I awake in love with life
Seeing the poetry in my grading
Others are cut off the week with a knife
Only my depression are they aiding

The fog that encumbers my existence
Obscuring the beauty I remember
On mornings I get up to resistance
Is my hurt soul’s invisible member

Inches above this bleak early morass
Is the surface that I usually
Love o’er the moist depression I lambast
That mornings bring institutionally

I will create my day’s activities
& fight depression with proclivities


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