Getting up each day is by far my biggest hassle in life. Every weekday the alarm goes off at 6 a.m. and it’s rise and shine. Most weekend days we don’t set an alarm, but it’s just as hard to get-up without it. In fact, I’ve found that regardless of what time it is, or how long you’ve been asleep, it’s always a painful experience. To make matters worse, in old age my bladder causes me to roll out of bed at least three or four times every night, but at least there’s that consoling thought of getting back in right away. (Probably more information than you wanted to know!) The only end of it is the end, so I wrote this short humorous poem:

Alarm

Under the covers,
There’s a certain peace.
But with the alarm,
It’s soon to cease.

Snug and warm,
Pillows all around.
But then you hear,
That mournful sound.

Regardless of the time,
It’s hard to rise.
That on-your feet moment,
I truly despise.

Hitting the snooze,
Only prolongs.
One of life’s,
Painful wrongs.

This is why,
In the end.
Death may become,
A welcome friend.

If some morning,
I wake-up dead.
I won’t be forced,
To get-out of bed.

copyright 2018 johnstonwrites.com