I detest my morning alarm
it's consistent annoyance
probes, and pokes, and prods
my belly turns and desperately strives to clean my dirty goods
I re swallow, and re-digest the revolting acid,
two, three times over
you'd think my re flux would be well trained.
Persistent with it's rings
how has a noise sneaked so subtly under my skin,
but it is about the only thing,
that doesn't give in,
everyone else stops trying,
once I let the 7th call ring,
until once again,
they are talking to substitute me, my voicemail.
The thought of showing face, tip-toes me to the edge
but it rings and it rings,
until I acknowledge
it's forever-returning racket.
10:15am,
I drag myself,
out of my bed of despair.
I loathe my morning alarm,
I hoped I wouldn't hear it again,
I didn't want to wake up.
YOU ARE READING
An organised mess
PuisiA poetry collection with random poetry I have written overtime, and thought i'd share. I aim to add a new poem into this collection every day, could be the occasional off day :-) hope you enjoy! **thoughts day to day, put pen to paper and let the...
