the 24 hour day.

                 Each and every day I fool Failure into ruining me tomorrow.
                 And each and every day He grows slightly wiser to my plan.

                 My sneaking steps grow slightly louder, my secret tricks grow slightly less clandestine in my eyes,
                 As I grow increasingly nonplussed with consequences.
                 And as I am never confident of my daily escape, I grow weary of constand routine.

                 And it forces me to ponder my success:
                 Maybe I haven't escaped after all.