Of stolen time

** of stolen time **
They steal an hour and steal my sleep
Set to workday rhythms I cannot pause
Gather back the rest dispersed
In that single hour shifting
Of clock hands moved forward not back
I find myself still fully awake
When clock states I should be weary
And unable to find suitable repose
I lie there wasting those minutes allocated for slumber
And when clock demands I rise
It is from a shortened and troubled sleep
Morphesian depths to which I should have sunk
Instead only on edge of slumber dipped
So to work I advance with reserves unreplenished
A sense of foggy fatigue coats me
Each interaction with world is muffled
I am another daylight saving casualty
Not dead merely wounded
Not sleeping merely snoozing.