Poor sleepy me

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Do not count this sin on me dear Lord
Though of it I am guilty by all legality
The sin of my sleepy eyes, my folded arms
Indeed am guilty,  too guilty even to speak
I am ashamed of the poor sleepy me
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Woe to the whims of warm nights
That cheats your son to remain in bed
Woe to the comfort of my blankets
That the hour of prayer I hearken not
Poor sleepy me, I need you Lord in this
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Indeed nothing I desire more, nothing I hope
But your fellowship early in the morn in prayer
But the weak me that I am; falling for sleep instead
I do not ask for no sleep for you are indeed the giver
But Lord help this poor me not to worship my blankets.
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Behold the morn is coming and as always I have plans
To awake before the cock and enjoy our time together
But how many times have I planned this in futility
Dear Lord,  for this one morn, now and always so I pray
Help the poor me to defeat sleep and seek thee in the morning.
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