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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Wake up at five am, loud ringing in the distance.

Pull an over exhausted corpse away from a heated world.

Stumble down a dark and dismal path,

Awaiting an entrance into a land of white ceramic.

A cold rush of ice absorbs my body like never before,

Quickly cascading but not fast enough, the torture continues.

Finally refreshed, step out,

Head back down the path.

The chill of air is suddenly sharper, colder.

You wince as an inward cold fills your body.

Leaving you raw and struggling for a warm source of comfort.

Air dried and dressed

Searching for a source of minimal nutritional value.

Sad substance, what hope is there for your children.

If this is all you have now.

Distant Honking

Inward cursing.

Rush out the door.

Another same day, same old drone.

Just like the life of a honey bee.

Another Brand New Day.

Posted

Extend a psuedopod

onto the button labeled 'snooze'

Postpone evolution.

 

My single worry is that I can't formulate full sentences after first waking up, and would break up the first line to reflect that. Otherwise it flows perfectly. A good salute to the bad moment of the day!

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