To My Alarm Clock

Every morning I lie there

innocently sleeping

when the peace is ruptured by a

horrible beeping.

My serenity ripped asunder,

Sudden and drastic

By this evil, demonic, red eyed

Piece of plastic.

I roll over in pain and pound on

The snooze,

Groaning, moaning, thinking

‘What’s there to lose?’

‘Don’t make me get up, just nine

minutes more.’

The same thing I’ve said every

morning before.

It’s not that I hate mornings or

dread the new day.

It’s just that I loathe waking up

in this way.

I’d much rather simply rise up

with the light,

glowing in the window, chasing

away the night.

But the sudden screaming, the

Incessant fuss,

Makes me want to yell and cry

And simply to cuss.

Especially the knowledge that all

Of my sorrow

Will be replaced the same time,

Same way, tomorrow.