Morning, not again

Cuddled in comfort, I yawn so wide,

that a dentist with his tools will merry inside.

Unwilling to part, my eyelids hold tight,

I promise them a reunion as soon as its night.

I reach for him to slit his throat,

still,  he manages to snooze with his funny nose.

I wiggle in bed to stand my sleep in good stead,

soon after the tussle, the bed seems to have borne a night of romance instead.

O ‘ its morning, shrieks my skin,

with complaints aloud and curses unheard,

I walk it to the shower without its asking.

Knob turns left for hot and right for cold,

hold it to the center to stay dry a little longer.

The inevitable happens as the water pours,

and I begin to sing my reserved morning scores.

After the battle I step aside, to wipe those drops that prick alike.

I wonder, if tomorrow god was to be kind and dearer,

Let me remain clean and fresh to escape this morning terror, ‘shower’.