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The Mocker of My Midnight Bliss
Have not thee raised thy ugly self
A killjoy upon life's shelf
So much that thou art truly known
By both the young and grown
Thy rays a burden to my face
Which bringeth forth no grace
To raise me up from peaceful rest
Thou inevitable night pest
For so long cease not I to wonder
Why thy twelve seem longer than your brother's
A curse art thou upon my head
To bid me farewell from my comfort bed
Thou bringest forth heavy heat and sweat
A burden to my cold peaceful earth
I like to dream and doth dream big
Of riches joy and peaceful hymn
But dou like a troubling pinkish pig
Crawls up the sky
to incomplete my dream
Grown have I to learn that I must lay
With one eye partially opened
Awaiting the curse that men call day
A mocker of my midnight bliss
Though I wrap me up a thousand times Avoiding me thy yellow shine
Yet ye travel still through countless miles
To disturb these sleepy eyes of mine
I hate thy intruding jealous hands
A splitter of lovers apart
I hate thy burning golden eye
A burning flame that melts my heart
Again I hate thy yellow rays
Bringing me boring endless days
If asked was I why hate me thee
I hate thee for killing my dreams ...
Copyright ©
Elizabeth Adams
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