If I wake as the sun rises,
with the birds in song,
I am in control.
If this moment slips by, however
I’m in dream and sleep-in,
I am lost – know not where I should begin.
Lethargy cloaks me,
I’m dormant,
a shell of a man.
Rise with the sun,
like all other living things,
and I am on my way.
Give in to sleep,
like fever,
and I am far from present.
Every morning I debate myself,
an internal dialect on repeat,
“should I or shouldn’t I?”
I often convince myself the latter,
though the former I know to be right,
avoiding the inevitable journey that lay ahead.
I really should get up.
Lewis Walddren 