The sun rises slow
And weak
In the cold mornings of walking solo.
My desk awaits me,
My family demands a warm hand,
My time is split
With sorrow and pride.
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Thoughts and flowers from the lab
The sun rises slow
And weak
In the cold mornings of walking solo.
My desk awaits me,
My family demands a warm hand,
My time is split
With sorrow and pride.
