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This morning, I woke up,
not aware this could be left behind
all of those lovely things
stress drags into the hearts of breaches.
This morning, I woke up,
not sure how I'd witness a lot.

This morning, I was left behind,
ignored, and fairly invisible
for--I reckon--three times.

This morning, I saw people
too light that by mood,
were thrown into trouble.

This morning, I witnessed lovers
hold a moment of one,
holding words like swords.

This morning, I was an eye,
a lucky and an unfortunate one,

whose task is to see how cruel
that part of world is.

This morning, I was a pair of wrists,
having a manacle wielded by laws
of certain fear, of unspecified need.

This morning, I was restricted.
Saddening, isn't it, to let one hold back
what was meant to be a flowing river?
But it was a good idea

because you know how cruel
that part of world is.

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