Bright Lights

I'm tired, I'm worn
But I'm not here to say I'm unhappy,
The opposite really
But it wouldn't be bad
If time would take a second
For me to collect my thoughts
Before the morn.

Each sunrise
Greets me with lights,
Bright lights
Hurting my blurry vision
Making the sheets so inviting
That I might fall back asleep
And dream dreams so deep

Of cars and trains
Merry breezes and saddened rains.
Poetry is enjoyable
Poetry is fun
It's a kind of outlet
That in no other way can be met.
I'm tired, I'm worn

But I cannot act forlorn.
I reminisce nothing,
For my world was made anew
I see through new eyes
Something revolutionary on the rise.