Ugh, you’re so annoying mother,
Why must you wake so early and stir
Into my room relentlessly causing me to take further cover
Must you try to disturb my fur?
Oh please, just go bother
The dogs or my sister and not me,
Go make some food to feed my father,
Call the school and tell them of my plea;
My sleep, doesn’t care what it is I have to do today
Whether it be donate blood or write an essay.

Your motives are so convincing
What makes this false claim true?
I can tune you out by simply moving to a different venue,
But I cannot travel too far without fainting from exhaustion.
If my intolerance hasn’t driven you away
Come back another time
When you have something meaningful to say
Of information that is more than sublime.
Ask the siblings whom you pestered before
And they will agree and you will receive an obnoxious snore.

My sleep and I are above all else,
Nothing else even matters.
Everyone wishes for this lack of clatter,
Their claims of their prime dormancy are bogus.
Mom, you are half as successful as me on this soft hibernation apparatus,
So I will do you a favor
And allow you, with your old age, to experience sleep so gratuitous
By allowing myself to sleep like a kind of waiver,
That permits all in our house to experience such a feeling.
My bed is a divine resting throne, and yours is made for healing.