My Late-Night Writings Are My Best

My late-night writings are my best

It’s why I keep a notebook by my bed

Have a thought, one that needs penned

Right now

Never forget another plot line again

Lying in bed, thinking, and a thought comes

Flip on the light, grab the book and pen

Of course, it will look like chicken scratches

Because I’m writing fast

But I will be able to decipher it—eventually

Right now, it’s 11:00—when my works are best

After the thoughts of the day have seeped in

11:01—I grab my book, for this plot can’t wait.

11:30 and I’m still writing

At 12:00 I lay down my pen and close my book

I’m done!

It’s 12:20 and I’m back at it

1:00, 2:00, 2:30 in the morning

This isn’t a forgotten homework assignment

I’m writing for fun

3:00, 4:00, 4:30

I know I need my rest and all,

But I can’t stop now!

My hand aches, and I yearn to use the computer, but Mom will see

And ask why I’m using the computer at 5:00 in the morning

5:30 and I’m still going

The lamp by my bed is probably almost burnt

I grab a flashlight, just in case

For this is one plot I can’t let go!

6:00 and the words are still pouring out like water

I take a brief nap, but at 6:15

Pick up my pen again

I have filled pages and pages with my late-night chicken scratch

That I will need to decipher later

I know this is one of my best works.

Ever.

7:30, Mom comes in, to wake me for school

And I’m passed out, notebook on my lap

Fingers still curled around the open-capped pen

For, after all, my early-morning writing is my best.