Habit Poem by Will Bolton

The very start of my day
dictates the way
the rest of the day shall progress
A rip, a spill, any type of mess:
and i know its going to rain.
Self-inflicted weather, utterly isolated pain
To break my norm
is to incite a storm
Routine provides comfort, warmth and death
Monotony killed imagination, takes away creative breath
So jump out of the rat race
Dictate your own speed and pace
Because the very start of ones day
should never dictate the way
the rest of the day shall progress