Morn

In the morning
I'll wake up
And there will be frost on my windshield,
Burnt tobacco on my face,
Tactless people surrounding me,
Suffocating me,
Onerous until the very end.
I'll press some buttons and look,
Once, at a beautiful woman,
And neglect by bowels.
I'll make purchase,
In the way of double jeopardy;
I can't be guilty of the same thing twice.
I'll be ignored by the folk
That plague my every thought,
I'll sweat, and drink,
And think, and cry,
I'll eat, if with regret for my seething inards.
I'll wear lenses to see at a distance,
And frustrate myself,
Thinking about myself.
I'll accept what the day brings me,
And sit, and blow it off.