The Sleeping Oaf

November 17, 2017
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The mystery of the morning shown through,
The sun glared at me, it whispered wake up.
Knock, Knock, came the bedroom door,
Mother called to me, breakfast was served.

The sun glared at me, it whispered wake up.
I sank deeper and deeper, into the beds warm embrace,
Mother called to me, breakfast was served.
I wanted breakfast, but I wanted the bed more.

I sank deeper and deeper, into the beds warm embrace,
Slowly the warmth begins to fade,
I wanted breakfast, but I wanted the bed more.
The breakfast, and bed, the warmth that begins to fade.






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