I think most people can relate to being rudely woken up when on the cusp of sleep. I found this poem scribbled in one of my many notebooks with a date at the top of September 26, 2014. I remember writing it at one or two in the morning and was very sleep deprived. I’m honestly surprised I managed to write anything coherent, let alone maintain a consistent rhyming scheme. The events described in the poem are completely autobiographical and, in hindsight, quite funny.

My prayers were said, 
I was lying in bed, 
The lights were off.  

I was nice and warm, 
Then up did swarm 
A buzzing ever so soft.  

Gone was my sleepy bliss, 
"What the hell is this?"
Went my angry thought.  

Intermittent it was, 
This annoying buzz, 
'Til at last I dragged myself aloft.  

I tracked it to a corner, 
Where to my horror 
A smell up did waft.  

My spider trap, 
Sticky with TERRO sap, 
A mouse instead had caught.  

Long time deceased, 
My brow did crease, 
To recognize a scent smelled oft.  

And the buzzing indeed 
Came from a fly in need, 
Its own destruction it sought.  

As I double-bagged, 
I choked and I gagged, 
I whimpered and I coughed.  

Mice are roommates 
I do hate, 
Though my opinions count for naught.  

My alert did not ebb, 
For I saw many a spider web -  
That corner with them was fraught.  

My trusty duster 
Annihilated the cluster, 
But no comfort was I brought.  

For upon lifting up the rug, 
Another unappreciated bug 
Was added to the plot.  

Ants, scurrying in a frenzy, 
Though numbers they had plenty; 
A battle yet to be fought.  

Tired, upset, 
I went to the cabinet 
And the TERRO out did trot.  

First I sprayed, 
Then liquid trap I laid, 
For ant destruction I sought.  

I put the carpet back, 
And though sleep I lacked, 
The event could not be forgot.  

Bugs I smote, 
These verse I wrote, 
To poetry I was brought.  

And now that I've shared 
With you out there, 
What think ye of what I have wrought?  

And while my sanity you ponder, 
I think I'll wander 
Back to bed and sleep, dear-bought.