There should have been trumpets,

And harp strings a plenty

Instead there's just regret

And a head that feels empty

No, not empty. There are echos in there

Echos of a dream. Of a wonderful place where...

No, it's gone. Now there's just the morning.

The slow realisation of another day dawning.

So now, now my weary friend.

You must rise. You can no longer pretend

You live in the sandman's glorious realm

Welcome to reality.

Goodbye patterns.

Goodbye sense out of chaos.

Hello Earth and people and jobs and breakfast.

There is no force holding you down but you.

You must rise against it.

There is a whole day still to go through.

***

https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2017/05/as-you-rise-each-day.html