You need some sort of resolve,
A tacit belief in your self
As you gradually wake up
On a Sunday morning
And slowly push back
The wasting regret of yesteryears,
The uncertainty of the week ahead.
If you feel better now
In a foreign country,
The gamble has been good,
The economy has helped you,
You saw the light through the crack,
And you entered the smooth corridors
Into a strange world of opportunity.
The crickets of a fractured morning
Prepare a breakfast of sounds for you
In their generosity which is
Only edible while half asleep;
A sunlight shaft passes through the window
As if in sincere apology for your travails
Making your resolve stronger
To confront an uncertain future.