Good Morning

Good Morning.

I woke to the shrill of the alarm's morning solo
And studied the sunlight on the ceiling:
Another summer Monday morning.
I stretched a lazy arm
and returned the room
To soft-breath silence
And the sound of the pain
In my mind.

Through the window
Blackbirds sounds reveille
From the midst of privet and roses
In the borders of yesterday's stripes.
Why does the sun still smile on suburbia
When black clouds hang over my world?

I want to stay in the dark
But daylight calls.
I want to nurse my hurt
But duty calls.
I want to move on
But history calls.
I have freedom of choice
But I cannot choose
To hear her voice.

Should I take a rope to the cellar,
Or find a bridge across the river?
Or don my suit and carry on?

Or should I toss a coin?