Woke up late, it’s half past eight, My toast flew out, it met its fate. No time to dress, I’m half a mess, My socks don’t match, but I must impress! Phone is dead, no texts were read, My hair looks like a bird just fled. Jumped in the car, forgot my jar, Of coffee dreams and protein bar. Traffic’s wild, I cursed, then smiled, My boss will scream, destroy my dream, But I’ll just blame the washing machine. Reached the gate, oh twist of fate, I left my badge—now I must wait. Security laughed, said “Bro, you’re daft,” I winked and said, “I’m just craft-staffed!” Clocked in late, but still I skate, I brought baklava to compensate. They rolled their eyes, but took the prize, And now I’m safe... until sunrise.
