Night-time Chiseler

Dragging my feet
I go to bed
After pounding the street
All day.
My schedule was filled
No rest in between
At my activities I drilled
All day.
In the mirror I look
My face, it sags
The night time chiseler chiseled
Into my face, purple bags.
When the alarm goes off
And jerks me awake
I discover
The night time chiseler
No break did he take.

This poem is about: 
Me

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