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Up All Night
I howl at the moon although the windows have no bars,
Survey like an astronomer without finding stars.
The itch that I scratched comes back and reacts,
Obscuring and corrupting all the facts
In spite of my once fierce resolve
To wipe clean my slate and absolve.
No, the obsession calls my name once again
And I yearn to break free any way I can.
The evening has a mind of its own -
I am seized by the light as soon as it's shone.
Every minute, every hour seems to indict
As I stir in my predicament, up all night.
