The clock moves slowly now

Almost standing still

The comments, the posts, the poems

Make little to no sense

My hand cramps from video games and typing

Cat left confused, not understanding his people at all

The snacks have been desecrated

The coffee has been weaned down in preparation for sleep

Yawns take the place of interest

Hour 22,

Inhibitions are gone

Taking common sense with it

They just packed their bags and left the building

All that remains are red eyes

Held open by will alone

Another poem published

Another struggle for words

A fist fight with perseverance

No giving up this close to the end