In the dim room, the alarm flickers,
a whisper of time that holds no power.
I reach out, fingers finding the switch,
silencing the call of morning's demand.
The ashtray sits, a testament to nights,
filled with thoughts that never speak.
I look into the mirror, eyes meeting eyes,
searching for strength in the quiet moment.
The world outside waits, unaware of this pause,
a breath held in the stillness of dawn.
I understand now, happiness is fractured,
a mosaic of moments, not always whole.
