Poem: Ungodly Hours

At time not “correct,”

By metrics unknown,

Old world relics,

I’ve barely liked as I’ve grown,

Do make clocks strike,

At unfortunate times,

And send to bed,

Other’s social lives,

And limit those who can,

Stay up all these nights,

And share in my space,

And night owl delights.

They all asleep,

While onward I toil,

A person unbound,

By time—

And that usually clock-based roil.

There’s much to be done—

That much is for sure.

And while they rest and relax,

I make for damn certain,

That time is okay,

That art breaches the curtain,

That the world is maybe a little more tolerant,

For those who are underfoot,

For those who feel,

Sting wrath of society.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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