Getting Up

Getting up should be forbid!

It’s too early for a kid.

Hiding not from what I did.

Under blankets �" there I hid.

 

If just to sleep late �" I would.

And dream all day - I could.

I want sleep, but wake I should.

Getting up is never good.

 

Getting up is what I dread.

Hair is tossed up on my head.

Mouth tastes yucky, eyes red.

Cold piggy’s dangling from bed.

 

Then they’re tickled by my dad.

Got right up but I’m not mad.

Smiles and sunshine bright, I’m glad.

Getting up was not so bad.

 

The End

 

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