30: Placid Sea

With the morning dew, And rising sun, An achy head spins To drowsy displeasure.

While crossing ones fingers Hoping for the best, The rush of the morning Rouses from sleep.

Within the metal strips That judder and shake, Elusive is rest Carrying headaches in between.

Worn down yoga mats, And judging families, Whilst one looks over the Placid and waiting seas.