The alarm goes off, a brutal, screeching sound,

And I face the day's first bet, right here on hallowed ground.

The chips are stacked, the odds are always tight:

Do I risk the five-minute snooze, or start the day out right?

It's a high-stakes hand, I know the consequence well,

If I hit the button one more time, I'll be sprinting through my hell.

I'll skip the coffee ritual, I'll forget where my keys are kept,

My whole highly structured morning routine will be utterly swept.

My logical side is shouting, "Get up, you idiot! Look at the clock!"

But the siren song of the pillow is like a cruel, seductive shock.

I check my internal ledger, the pros and cons I weigh—

A moment of sublime peace for the chaos of the rest of the day.

I call.

I slam the snooze. A blissful, terrible thing.

It's the worst decision I'll make before the morning bells ring.

But for those extra minutes, I'm the winner, I'm the king,

And the inevitable meltdown later? That's tomorrow's thing.

The house always wins, sure, but I took my glorious cut.