Digging around in my computer, I happened upon this little rhyme from 2008, which I do believe is the outcome of an exercise assigned by G— C— for her poetry blog. 

First in the morning, what was said?
It’s hard to tell. It’s in my head
A jumbled mess of words and phrases
Like a book with missing pages.
One night I stayed up with pain
I sorted through the words in vain.

What was said last at night?
To my cat I think it might
Be all the words I have to say
Because I’ve been at work all day.