morning birds

My face, Sprinkled with misery, Kept sobby Like roof edges on rainy days. An expression Plucked out of me, By the crows within me. Emitting out of my chimney To give the sky some yankie dimes, At my distress pour dreary clouds. Yet I defy like a disobedient child, the insurmountable gravity, As I fall like a meteor. I land in the hands of survival Who still promises no certainty. The devil's complexion has me blinded Like a butterfly, But dawn is a phoenix And inevitably I shall rise, From the ashes of my pyre Sprout like a hibiscus. The morning concert On the window sill rouse Better than a steam trumpet, An alarm or a vixen three stops short of a Dagenham. The chirping thruses utter "There's sunshine after a stormy night And you will be alright."