Early morning changes my colour,
Weakens my magnet for you to escape into sleep
I asked the girl in the corridor if she was a
Morning bird, she smiled then floated into the
Lacquered afternoon
So easy for her
Does she know of her boyfriends addiction?

The sea has tempted me from Europe
I can't abide by words; they are forever changing,
Working towards a plot for some insane script.

The funeral of a small town
Don't send flowers
Donate them to guilt
Innocence once held power
Now, not even a memory can realise the coup.

Her eyes open
The bliss of her portrait is shelved
I wish I could resolve with her the teeth that chew
My requirements.

Anthony Dawson

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/early-morning/