All the lights are out
and all the eyes are closed
except the single, strained eye of the desk lamp
with its drooping, weary head.
It’s late. No, it’s early now.
You should be in bed, son.

Time still passes in the wee hours
even if it feels like it doesn’t.
Really, must you do this now?
The keyboard isn’t going anywhere.
You should get some sleep, son.
Rest your head.
You have to be up in the morning.


Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons. Photographer: yuyudevil.


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