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Nite Mirror

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A late night poem [Apr. 3rd, 2002|02:57 am]
Nite Mirror
Late at night, tired to the bone,
And feeling all alone
He sits wondering why
He's giving rhyming a try.

His bed is where he should be.
After all it is nearly three.
The mood is set, the reader waiting,
But will the writer be accommodating?
No, he's going back to bed.