The Freedom To Sleep Late
Though rather tepid,
this aspect of my life,
I coon sitter tubby cool
and hoop fully ye
(unknown reader
will quickly warm)
e'en if thee option
to stay abed
might cuz ya to drool
though this re: son hubble
mister rhyme stir
(in this instance) enjoyably
playing the role
of "FAKE" fool
barely breaking a cerebral sweat,
sans minimally exerting
mine mental capacity,
(which got set
to cruise control)
luxuriating at exemption, space/
time continuum junction,
and option to arise
whenever I want, joyfully cries,
sans this pleasure to exercise
allowance to avoid "rat race,"
(though mine circadian
rhythm usually jostles
me (Joe Cur)
awake mid morning,
when dream state flies
away Chuck Norris lies,
no explanation to include
above name sake),
this will be my oh
chew weary,
boot before thy demise
lemme summarily apprise
circumstances (moost NOT
envied by other gals and guise)
cuz receiving social security disability
(predicated on major panic attacks,
social anxiety,
and schizoid personality
disorder NOT tubby confused
with schizophrenia) defies
explanation former severe
debilitating, harrowing,
and lacerating symptoms
decreased with medication,
yet the better (or rather
worse) part of my life,
argh...time to shies and Ryan!
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