I was in a hurry, in a mad rush 
The morning was crazy, yes one of those 
The alarm had belted shrilly out
But I was dead to the world, comatose 

Dreaming of wishes being horses and Bookers  
Until the clock struck ten and then 
I threw off the duvet, leaped out of bed 
Limbs all awry like a headless chicken 

Here’s a little aside: when I’m stressed 
My hair also declares a mutiny  
Acts up like it’s the raging heroine 
Of its very own show on prime time telly 

And so it was in this agitation 
That I knocked my elbow on the door 
I cursed like a sailor who’s had too much ale-er
Deliriously, frenziedly I swore 

I vented as much as a random string 
Of choice expletives can enable 
The rest of the rage I swallowed away 
As virtuously as I was able

Then the ultimate decimation came to pass
I stubbed my wretched left little toe 
What chanced to happen in the heat of my passion
You really wouldn’t want to know 

Suffice it to say that on that day 
The angels filling in my Wicked Gal page
With brimstone, hellfire, the sinfulness of ire 
Had a field day, ‘twas their advantage 

And so ‘twixt my shoulders and my feet now
A funny bone doesn’t exist at all 
I try to be sweet-talking, kind and good 
Until the next time I slam, stub or fall.