Which one startles you awake
In these small hours?
Cynicism? Pessimism? Optimism?
Or, perhaps romanticism?
It is a question worthy of consideration
As it is unlikely that our essential inclination
Is so lightly ascertained
That we may consider these wakings
As but slight disruptions
Of a night's repose.
My own has been sorely won
In countless jousts against the foe.
Until now, like all romantics,
I fence my way through life,
Holding discord at bay
With the point of my pen.
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