I understand it completely now

why I hate mornings.

In a certain period, in my early youth,

I was want to wake up, with Hangovers, often in my Birthday suit

and Broke, No money for the day's Beer and Cigarettes ahead.



In old age now, I wake up,

not so much  Broke, but bent, the bones groan,

as if to say...." Don't stand up"..." Don't bend"...." Don't move",

"  Achtung,... Landmines ahead ..go slow".


If the Beer and cigarettes  today were free,

I'd have No use for those Imposters , you see.

I can remember a time, when I jumped out of bed.

I can remember a time, when I jumped into bed.


The bed is a two face Knave,

that lulls you into a false sense of security,

and kicks you in the head,

when you wake up in the morning, dead.


                   By Holly Barrett