Dawn tiptoes and peeks through the curtains,
And my alarm blares "Rise and shine, for
Life awaits beyond the comfort of your bed!"
Yet my leaden body bed me down like an anchor,
As I wonder, should I rise or should I starve?
And why must I merely survive, when I can live?
And my alarm blares "Rise and shine, for
Life awaits beyond the comfort of your bed!"
Yet my leaden body bed me down like an anchor,
As I wonder, should I rise or should I starve?
And why must I merely survive, when I can live?
Uncomfortably, I linger in slumber's embrace,
While reality waits, tapping its impatient foot.
My body, oh, it's no clockwork machine!
It carved rest, pajamas, blankets and pillows,
To oil the gears and cogs of my tired soul,
For sometimes 'living' wears pajamas.
While reality waits, tapping its impatient foot.
My body, oh, it's no clockwork machine!
It carved rest, pajamas, blankets and pillows,
To oil the gears and cogs of my tired soul,
For sometimes 'living' wears pajamas.
And when I finally rise, reluctant yet renewed,
I know this truth: Rest is rebellion,
A quiet revolution against the grind,
A reminder that living transcends survival.
I know this truth: Rest is rebellion,
A quiet revolution against the grind,
A reminder that living transcends survival.
No comments:
Post a Comment