Wrong side of Bed by Choice

As wings wrapped around his back,
His eyes unveils another day,
Rolling, stumbling out of the sack,
As he wished for longer to stay.

Wrong side of bed and insight of fate,
Poorly intending for today to fast forward,
Sun scorching while he unwillingly drags deadweight,
Body sweating as he stood in queue, a little awkward.

Wearing a frown on his sweating, maliced face.
Like a faulty bumper car, he stood taking blows.
The next stop arrived, packed with zombies filling his space.
With loud noisy kids, irritating him till anger starts to overflow.

A stressful morning voyage to endless work,
With sunglasses that turns every frame dark and gloomy,
Every action of others begins to drive him berserk,
The Universe in the plot against him. What a conspiracy!

A Pessimistic mind made up, defeats the purpose of life,
Building a dam, blocking the heart to flow in define purpose....

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