A Rude Awakening

I look to the East as the sunrise begins
With the pale glow that lights up the dark.
The stars slowly fade as the morning alarm
Tries to drown out the air of the lark.
I stretch with a yawn and feel five hours older
Though I may have passed them in sleep
And groan as my feet reach to meet the cold floor
When to my bed they rather would keep.
As I fill up the kettle and stand at the counter
My week-daily headache begins
And I curse the poor souls, who even before dawn
Have been sent out to empty the bins.
As the toast I smell charring and burning away,
I gaze at the clock ‘cross the room,
And noting the numbers that glow on the dial
I growl “Saturday” into the gloom.

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