I am a clenched fist, nails embedded
I am a portent, long been dreaded
I am a nightmare, dark, recurring
An obtuse veil, your vision blurring
I am the knock you have been fearing
Late at your door, just out of hearing
Increases to a frenzied pounding
You can’t drown out this ceaseless hounding
You feel your heart beat out your chest
Your peace of mind, from you I’ve wrest
I am the Reaper, not seen coming
Incessant noise of fingers drumming
A ticking clock that soon will chime
Those clanging gongs ring “It’s your time!”
…
There’s nothing worse than being roused
By aggravating blare that’s housed
A form of torture that you’ve set
But in your dreams you soon forget
From soothing sleep you have been torn
When alarm clock shrieks, it’s workday morn…
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