Morning monster
Legs feel heavy
Stomach is churning
Eyes won't open
Heart is pounding
Mouth goes dry
Teeth are chattering
Not a speck of reason to hope
No single place feels home
Nowhere to seek refuge
No hints of any siege
Nobody to call
Nothing to break the fall
A monster, not under my bed
An inchworm, slithering in my head
Something's come to the rescue
A knight in rusted armour
Squiggles and squirms, pink and hue
Lift a little and lessen the fever
Tolstoy, Woolf, Wallace & Lahiri
Now the worm, frightened and eerie
What if the worm inches in again?
I'll pick a Dickens, Dawkins, Dickinson or Darwin
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