Things That Make The Morning Call

Fragile you,

Blind and grey,

Showed up once

Then hid away.

Saw the sun,

Saw the sky,

And how the sunlight

Burned your eyes.

Fled from the day,

Hiding away.

Dig so deep,

Bury all

The things that make

The morning call.

All the same

Day will break,

And you deny

The sky you crave.

Your walls are so high

To block out the sky