Getting out of Bed

May 11, 2012
More by this author
The avalanche roar of a garbage truck
The rattling tornado siren of an alarm clock
The painful shrill banshee of a beckoning mother

My aching back pleas
Just a few more measly minutes!

My glued-shut eyes beg
Spare us, please, from the wretched light!

My still-dreaming consciousness deplores
And I rise like Lazarus from the tomb

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback