The night grows colder as the hours wane.
Whirring of the refrigerator fills the silence.
Eyes grow tired staring at a backlit screen
Occasional scraping of a mouse echoes.
Work never ends in the world today,
Rare is the weekend open to just play.
The shift from 9 to 5, once the daily grind,
Is now replaced with always on, 3-6-5.
Are we burning candles at both ends?
Will we soon run out of wick?
Hopefully we can recharge somehow,
But we better make it quick.