Sat at the table, with my first cup of tea,
It’s already gone cold, but that’s normal for me.
The sun is just rising, the sky looks calm,
I’ve never needed, a wake up alarm.
A ‘morning person’ is just who I am,
but can’t face breakfast like, toast and jam.
It’s too early for fruit, fried egg is the best,
Soggy cereal, is what I detest.
Morning routine of taking my meds,
before my boys, get out of their beds.
I start cooking breakfast, that lush bacon smell,
my boys come running, I don’t need to yell.
The mayhem begins, the hussle has started,
then it all gets gross, as one of them farted.
Boys being boys, start laughing like mad,
no-one owns up, they all blame dad.