Until My Morning Comes, From the poem-a-day blog by Ray Scott

Until my morning comes

I am staring out my window into the heavy rain

Thinking I don’t know what love is other than pain

The willow tree a’ weeping, is in my memory

As I’m lost, alone and feeling so empty

Now I’ve done wrong, though I’ve made right

I don’t know which is worse

I keep following mirages, confusion is a curse

Well I’m crying on the inside, where I burry all my fear

And I’m wondering when will everything be clearer?

Well I’m feeling empty. And I’m waiting for the sun, could be of God…,

And I’m feeling empty, and I’m holding on until my morning comes

Now I’ve been back-doored and deserted. I guess I’ve deserted too

And there’s a million other reasons to be running back to feeling blue

All my running’s been in circles; see right through my clown disguise,

To the dark rings underneath my tired eyes

I’m feeling empty and I’m waiting for the sun…and

I’ll be holding on until my morning comes