Blanket

Fog blankets the valley today:

Lament of a Night Owl
(Another cheesy poem)

Somewhere deep inside my soul,
a part of me aches to control
the too harsh rules of time and space.
Listen as I make my case:

I hate to go upstairs to bed
and pull the blankets to my head,
because it seems that when I sleep
instantly alarms will beep.

So, if I stay late in the night
perhaps I can delay the light
that races round our too small earth
to brighten up a new day's birth.

But sadly, if I finally rest
at one or two or three, the West
will soon be bright'ning anyway,
for I CANNOT delay the day!