I’ve been up for ever and it’s only ten past nine
too early for the bookies
and not the right time for a wine

The struggles I juggle with daily tire me.

This new year thing
rings a bell,
but I can’t
remember the tune

and soon which comes
slightly later than now when
now is already here
I’ll give in to my caveman self and
open a tin of beer.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.