Awake

My mother didn’t work, yet still
Each day she took a nap.
As dinnertime approached, we woke her
With a little tap.

Years later, after she was gone,
I thought about the “rest”
She needed every afternoon;
She likely was depressed.

I’ve lived more years than she attained;
My energy is sapping.
Perhaps my mother spooked me
But I won’t give in to napping.

I guess that’s why, most evenings,
If I sit and watch TV,
I struggle to stay conscious,
Though my eyelids don’t agree.

It’s foolish to attempt to prove
I’m up and not pretending
Though with all my shows I never am
Awake to see the ending!