I woke up late last night,
With the devil at my bed.
I know I should have stood up but I went to sleep instead.
Last night I dreamt of progress just some that has now ended,
All spick and span precisely, but in no light can be mended.
The change to day was not abrupt;
Too much was on my mind.
All ready to erupt, and leave itself behind.
Slowly following my rhythm,
both sore eyes fluttered to,
and when I saw my singed walls
ideas came, construe.
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