spy the clock to find
the hours burned by fast
distraction waves
abound
like knowing knaves
bringing head-slump slumber
at the desk
the quiet dark
is false calm
a rude pause
to the world’s rage
churning somewhere
always
but the blue night
filled with child of dawn
sparks the need
to fly awake
and burn brighter than magnesium sun
while the rest of the world
slumbers
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