Bucking The Rhythms Again

Puff, pant and gasp, my will doth sap,
And you say do another lap!
Don’t kid so, please, you’re talking crap,
And mornings aren’t for me.

The evening run is always tough,
But good, refreshing, never rough,
The afternoon run’s quite enough,
But morning’s aren’t for me.

Leave me to play, to write, to read,
This ultra-fit kick I don’t need,
Alternate nights won’t make me bleed,
But mornings aren’t for me.

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