Diluted yellow light seeps from the curtains
A truck sporting loadspeakers advertises bargains
To hold onto dreams I am at pains
The vehicle moves on and peace once more reigns
My first concious thought comes with blissful slowness
I want no devices which mark the sun's progress
Indulge in time spent being absolutely aimless
Journey gently from the night's unconciousness
Loosen limbs and stretch with pleasure
It is time to end this sleepy leisure
Sunday morning is a fleeting treasure
But I must succumb to Awareness's pressure
For if by midday I do not awake
To enjoy Sunday afternoon it will be too late
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