Original Poem — The Clock on the Wall

The Clock on the Wall Keeps Ticking

It’s 8 am and I should arise.
The day is announced by a robin’s cries.
Into the room the sunlight streams
and abruptly jolts me from my dreams.
And the clock on the wall is ticking.

But soft is the bed and warm are the covers.
and I’d stay right here if I had my druthers.
What harm would it do?
I’ll just stay, wouldn’t you?
But the clock on the wall keeps ticking.

Deep down inside, there is no decision.
To just stay in bed is a losing proposition.
So I greet the day though my brain is still foggy.
I stumble to shower with my head all groggy.
‘Cause the clock on the wall keeps ticking.

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