Wake Up

A poem about how hard it is to wake up some days.

A cool, crisp morning air
Cuts like the teeth of a monster
That lurks in darkness

The warmth of bedding,
Pillows, comforters, and sheets
Protects from its fangs

The alarm, however
Is not so easily dissuaded,
And calls out for attention

The too-familiar voice
Of work, chores, and responsibilities
Awaiting, expectantly

To lift the blanket of night
Drop feet firmly to the ground
And rise to the occasion

Rise to the occasion today
As for the occasion yesterday
As for the occasion tomorrow

One day, the alarm will call
And will continue calling, unanswered
But today is not that day




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Originally published on austingil.com.

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