The Plague

When it was almost one, I thought the thoughts would soon be done.

Then it was past two, and there were still a few.

When the clock showed three, I got up to pee.

Then, at four, I peed some more.

Seeing five, I fought to close my eyes.

Then it was six, and there was no fix.

When I saw seven, I mourned the dawn,

and realized at eight, I was going to be late.

I hit the road before nine with a tired head,

now it’s ten, and I want my bed.

At eleven, I stole a nap in my ride,

which did nothing for my back, neck, or side.

Dragging myself back in at twelve with sunken eyes,

I sucked down coffee just to feel alive.

At one, I splashed my face.

At two, I realized I had three more hours of this place.

Striking three, the coffee made me pee.

But at four, I drank some more.

Then it was finally five, and I’d somehow survived.

Home at six, I got ready for a party mix.

Seven found me with my friends, ready to go.

When it was eight, we got some food on a plate.

Then at nine, we paid the dime.

Ten found me at a club, having fun.

By two, I was heading home, tired and happy, but wishing it was one.

At three, I laid down in bed,

and then the thoughts returned,

plaguing my head.

 

 

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