Why must I stay up so late?

            I can’t watch the birds in flight.

            There has been no fright.

            The moon is a little too bright.

            My covers keep it out of sight.

            There was a fight,

            But she got high as a kite.

            Now the covers are too tight,

            But at least the monsters won’t bite.

            This will probably end at my gravesite.

            I feel as though I own the twilight.

            It will be this way till first light.

            Though I try as hard as I might.