As the soft morning light

Filters through the half-closed blinds

I watch the hazy dust float

Dancing, sparkling particles

Setting the scene

For a brand new day.

 

Unbeknownst to the consequences 

Of the lack of teeth-brushing

That happened in the bathroom,

I throw my garfield t-shirt on

 

Its tattered yellow hue plays nicely

To the warm saccharine environment

The morning set.

 

And the smell of coffee

Cheap, cheap coffee

Fills my weary lungs,

Worn as the t-shirt

From many a plagiarized comedy routine.

 

The holes are not filled or patched

Simply gaping

There to fidget with every once in a while

To ease the aching boredom

And the feeling

Like you could have done more

Or that you could have gotten

A new t-shirt

At the dollar store.

 

Garfield’s half-worn face

Mocks me as I tug it on

Though it comes with a sense of comfort

Knowing that

Nothing is final

Not even the lifespan

Of the horrible t-shirt

That I got at the dollar store

Or the cheap coffee

Brewing away.