I lose my sleep at morning Three Forty Five
Wonder why I woke up in an hour so wee
I climb out of my sheets, and dive
Into my laptop for another stab at poetry
Ideas elude and eschew cognition
The grey cells as if on pills
Still slumber, needing ignition
And a strong dosage of morning drills
To whip out atleast a sonnet
To the hearts satisfaction as a votive
Is the way to start a good day, lest I fret
Being for the nonce my only motive
Two lines to go, one here I complete
And now I commence the day, with joy replete
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