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