Six in the morning
Touched down, bleary eyed
In search of a place to rest
Seven in the morning
Warmed by hot tea
Looking for something to see
Eight in the morning
Missing the people
Who're hanging out for bubble tea
Nine in the morning
Writing this post
Thinking of going back to sleep.
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Thank you for reading my lame attempt at "poetry". My better attempts were in those angsty college days, full of rhymes and rhythms and, I dunno, hidden meanings. I guess simplicity works for me these days.
I am in transit home, sitting in the HK Airport, being too lazy to either go out to town or go shopping in the airport. I have my laptop, free wifi, two books, an ipad and a kindle. I don't think I'll get bored.
I suppose I'll take a nap before looking for lunch.
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