I never imagined waking up with those words ringing in my head. Yet here I sit with one leg swinging over the side of the bed and my laptop keyboard lighting the darkness. I’ve counted the syllables, 5-7-5, to ensure the words will fit. So how can I get back to sleep once my brain has tricked me awake? Conveniently though, I can use the excuse that it’s 5:30 in the morning if my poetry doesn’t tickle your fancy. Indifferently I watch the world passing by Not mourning the