Awake

My mother didn’t work, yet still Each day she took a nap. As dinnertime approached, we woke her With a little tap. Years later, after she was gone, I thought about the “rest” She needed every afternoon; She likely was depressed. I’ve lived more years than she attained; My energy is sapping. Perhaps my mother spooked me But I won’t give in to napping. I guess that’s why, most evenings, If I sit and watch TV, I struggle to stay conscious, Though my eyelids don’t agree. It’s foolish to attempt to prove I’m up and not pretending Though with all my shows I never am Awake to see the ending!