Late Night Write

I aim to do a poem a day. Sometimes this means it gets left for the evening time and it gets pushed back further and further and then it’s so late that I cannot write so well. Please accept my apology for that.

At times of night when tiredness fills the air,
You can look and see the strain that’s etched there,
As my poor, struggling-with-scene, human mind,
Pieces together words of rhythmic kind.

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