From the fog
to the dew
that makes the morning glossy
Waking up to the sun
A yawn so deep
and their trees in the woods are mossy
The birds fly high
In a gang
they sing to those who have not yet woken
The kettle is hot
In screams from down the hall
Happy for the tea, yet my smile is broken
When I finally rise
walk out the door
and begin looking for a new discovery
I don't think of today
nor tomorrow
Just the thought of quick recovery
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