As I sleep with her next to me,
Dreaming of the places I’d rather be.
Woken suddenly by the sound of a gripe,
(Not a real shock from the complaining type.)
Then I must hear about what I’ve done,
Though if I was awake I would call it fun.
A smack in the face or a kick in the shin,
If I could remember it, I’m sure I would grin .
So I say “sorry” and that I’ll try to impede,
But without restraints, I could never exceed.
By now, she should know to give me my space,
So I can’t feel too bad when she’s kicked in the face.
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