Morning Rhymes

I wish my mind would stop these rhymes

They come at inconvenient times,

Even before my alarm bell chimes.

This bloody awful bookie's pen

Will drive me round the bloody bend.

I try to write things down with it,

But it's a piece of useless shit.

Why does this stuff come in my head

Before I'm out of bloody bed?

I'd rather get much-needed rest

Than stagger round in trunks and vest

To get my hands on fresh supplies;

I'd liefer in my warm bed lie.

I'm troubled by a restless muse;

Or is it caused by last night's booze?

In any case it's just bad news.

I feel this need to capture verse

But at the time it's like a curse.