Though her weeks are short

The days are long but don't seem to last long enough,

And the nights are longer.

She kindly welcomes the dark of the night

That she hopes will embrace her,

to swallow her whole.

Oh she waits for the night to take over,

to take over her body into a deep slumber.

She waits minutes,

Then a few hours.

Where is this phenomenon that she hears of so much?

Why has it still not visited her?

Now she knows this thing called 'sleep' is not a friend to all.

Just to have one taste could possibly change her for the better.

She knows she will never have to luxury to experience such a wonderful thing;

So she lie in bed a few more minutes,

then turn a few more hours.

Only less than an hour until her alarm,

her alarm that reminds her every morning before the sun has fully risen,

'it's time to get out of bed, it's time to wake up.'