Every morning,
I find myself empty handed,
For the sun has robbed me of my sleep.
"Wake up," it whispers,
As it creeps through the cracks in my window,
And pours its warmth into my eyes.
"Go away," I reply,
And beg for three more minutes.
Maybe one morning I will get my wish.
But the innocent sun has no ears,
And if it did,
It would refuse to listen.
