Curse you, dreaded clock that rings!
Haven’t you much better things
Than waking man from blissful sleep,
You wailing, sleep-depriving creep?
There you stand in hateful wrath,
Staring with your face of math,
Screaming at my body still,
Incessant as a dental drill.
Have you pity in your gears?
Won’t you spare my gentle ears?
Of my pleas, do you refuse?
In brief relief I hit your snooze.