It is getting late;
the day’s almost done.
This is not good cuz
my poem count is none.
January 5th
has a mere hour left
to prevent this year
from having a cleft.
I don’t want a gap,
so soon in the year,
because it may form
a habit, I fear.
Though I’m half asleep
with thoughts on the roam,
I’m glad that I still
finsished up your poem.
