The exercise:
I wanted to write a poem while relaxing my more rigid, self-imposed rules of poetry. Feel free to do the same with today's starter: the hour is getting late.
Mine:
The hour is getting late
The clock fills me with hate
There are not enough hours in the day
For me to write all the things I have to say
I need to get some sleep
I have promises to keep
So I turn off the light
And wish you all a fond good night
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