Night Morning Things

It’s one forty eight in the morning. It's late. (Or early, depends on the mood.) And now, at the one forty eight of today The street cats are fighting for food. It's one fifty one in the morning. I'm up. Apparently some neighbor too. His voice and my keyboard at one fifty one Meet skies that will soon turn to blue. It's suddenly two in the morning. I suck at finding the right rhymes to things. I lied, it's actually one fifty nine And circles are just cheaper rings. It's two zero two in the morning. Oh my. I think I should head up to bed. Too bad that to sign this poem off really cool You'd have to be named Mr. Ted. Goodnight.