The Stranger Poem by Aisha Sherazi

One morning I awoke,
To find a stranger,
Perched on the edge of my bed,
I turned to my husband,
But his lump-like form lay there,
Unflustered and silent,
Breathing quietly.

Frustrated I got up,
Ignoring them both,
Though it was hard for me,
To ignore the stranger's presence.

I seem to start my day,
In that sad and sorry way,
All to often,
But I have learned,
To recognize that stranger,
For who she is.

I call her,
Lazy, Sleepy, Tired,
Although on some days,
She's known as,
Unmotivated.

Sometimes,
On very bad days,
She stays for the whole day.

But knowing who she is,
Makes it a little easier,
To tell her,
'Go away, '
'Stay away, '
'And do not come back again.'