Poem: Ten Hours of Sleep
I want ten hours of sleep, but don’t know when I will.
Just be able to stay in bed, laying perfectly still.
When you have young kids, you keep getting woke up.
Someone keeps crying, or another wants a sippy cup.
I’ve gotten so tired of the morning alarm chime.
Should I call in sick? I’ve thought that many a time.
I feel so comfortable, wrapped in my cozy bed.
But I make myself get up, my eyes still showing red.
Even on weekends, there’s too much going on.
My to-do list is long, need to wake up with the sun.
So I force myself to do stuff, aware of the pleasure delay.
In the future I will sleep in — can’t wait until that fine day.