The clock taunts, an hour ahead,
A cruel trick as I crawl from bed.
The world outside, still draped in night,
Mocks my yawn with unwelcome light.

The weight of sleep, a stolen hour,
Replaced by shadows’ fading power.
My body protests, a sluggish groan,
Time’s shift a burden, all my own.

Coffee’s brew, a tempting scent,
A promise of energy yet unspent.
But eyelids droop, a weary fight,
The day feels endless, bathed in light.

The birdsong mocks, a morning choir,
While I yearn for slumber, just a sliver more.
This springtime shift, a yearly plight,
To adjust my rhythm to stolen light.

But slowly, surely, the fog will clear,
The body yielding, dispelling fear.
The day unfolds, a brand new start,
Though sleep’s sweet memory tugs at my heart.