Poor sleepy me


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
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
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.
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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