We all have that one movie.
The one we re-watch avidly.
The one where the protagonist
reminds us of our underdog selves.
Or at least the struggles
of waking up in the morning
without falling off the bed.

The clock flashes midnight,
reminds us that we have school
or wherever tomorrow. Yet,
we are engrossed spectators
captivated yet fearful
spectators to our hero's moment
of metaphorically hanging
off a metaphorical cliff.

We dismiss the clock and its
fallical midnight sign,
ignore the super-ego--
we have enough on our plates
from our actual parents
who expect too much
of underdeveloped minds
which are latched onto pleasure--
and continue watching our movie,
hoping that our hero
makes it out alive,
or at least does not fall off
the bed in the morning.