Morning rays are a fragment
Crushing dreams as a figment
As I blur time into a moment
Reality marches a movement
A final battle with my ailment
I escape to the webs’ oddment
Clicking scenes in parchment
From basement to pavement
All thoughts run in a segment
As I link my poems for judgment
I also pass my bill as a claimant
Not to a door but to a casement
A piece of this world as payment
Making words an easy shipment
Becoming master as placement
For poetry is life’s own pigment
Coloring a canvas that lie dormant
Ending fate’s own ill-treatment
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