Noon has its own dealings; night has its own feelings
Having spent a day that has no meaning
Laying down sleepless, looking at the ceiling
Slowly your eyes get closed without knowing
Rising to a new day with a beautiful morning.
Sometimes the morning can’t really be good
Especially when times are hard; no cash, no food
Late night sleep and you wake up to a noisy hood
Neighbors keep calling but you’re not in the mood
You keep hearing “good morning” and you think it’s rude.
You keep wondering, “what has life got to offer you today?”
You work so hard, you can’t tell what it feels like to play
It’s like the more you pray, you become the targeted prey
And your thoughts keep coming, your feelings taking you away
You’re hoping there is no such like “good morning” or another day.