The Human Heart.

Sun comes up,
I pick a song on
my lips,
Eyes refuse to shut down,
(Although work never had
any interruption,)
The play could never be contained,
It has to wait for the day,
And now it was ready to enjoy creation,
Coffee added to the madness,
The beans having known their
Purpose of existence,
Added to my thirst,
For a romance,
And to what I could offer,
Without a road map,
But a purpose, to
Ease the day off to its night.