The Sleepwalker

My brother sleepwalks every night,

but something bout it isn’t right.

The doctor says we must not try

to interfere — I don’t know why.

The sleeping boy, just looking fine,

escapes his bed each night at nine

and to the TV he will go

and always finds a favourite show.

He then will get potato chips,

(I see the sly smile on his lips!)

My mother says, “Sssshhhh — let him be.”

He has her fooled, it seems to me.

He’ll eat those chips and watch his show

while off to bed I’m forced to go.

But last night as I tried to sleep,

into my head a plan did creep.

I’m sick of watching that kid munch

the only food I love a bunch.

So I intend to get my share

cause after all — it’s only fair!

Therefore, tonight, my folks will see

a little change occur in me.

Yes, they’ll observe, when it is late,

to sleepwalk is a family trait.

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