Nappytime: An Awful Sonnet
I yearn for and crave a nice comfy nap,
The nappiest nap that was ever napped,
Until I can finally say, “Dear old chap,
I am no longer sure that I have snapped.”
For allergies often make me tired,
So I tell others to leave me alone.
Though, oddly, that seems to have inspired
Them to make me one who is always known.
But here I confess, and must say that I
Am not fond of the interest that they show.
You see, I am one who would much rather try
To sleep until they grow restless and go.
And yet, I know that this is all in vain;
I can never quite board the naptime train.
This poem is about:
Me
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