J - One Saturday Morning

I thought I was at home one Saturday morning
Wrapped in sheets my eyes were shut, my body limp
In an ephemeral softness slowly hardened by glints of waking
Tendrils of storm in Spanish blue, paradise guesting a pimp
Who with ghastly-white cheeks and glistening lips
Bloodshot eyes and long black cloak plies his trade
Climbing up from hell to visit the blessed, then dips
Back down penniless to his blazing glade
A patch of damp, tiny at first, festering in the corner
Spawning mould and filth until we wrinkle our noses
Feigning politeness, smiling at our host, too afraid to warn her
Of the black blight that bites and withers her roses
A spot on the sun, dark spreading bruise
Driving back the light, ebony whirling midnight
Gasps of shock when sea, still on an ocean cruise
Whips up a storm, acid raindrops bite
All this one warm, sunny, Saturday morning
Deep in sleepy contentment, curled in a ball
Realising, with cold reality dawning
I'm not at home, but still at school.