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A cold morning, time for a hot shower,

my body begins to tingle, I feel the power.

Snug in my warm clothes, I feel the heat.

now, it’s about time for me, to hit the street.

A crowded sidewalk, the bustling crowds,

the sun begins to peak, around the clouds.

An old man nods his head, a teenager glares,

but the youngster should realize, nobody cares.

For I look for the positive, on a cold winter’s day,

I love my job but even more I enjoy the pay,

So, let me leave you with, a message for the morn,

thank God every morning, for the day you were born.


Poem by David Andre Davison

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