Is it too late
To try create

A poem
At this hour?

Extract the strange and unknown thing
That's burning in the fire

And then a voice echoes within
You'e won my friend, you've won

Through sitting down and pushing on
Right up until the end

Emotions stir
Something is born

Something of me
Is somehow
Free

I'll fry an egg
And make some toast

To celebrate
This short ditty