(Not sure I’d want this power.)

The Midnight Genius

He was mocked all during the day,
But, knowing, at night they’d pay,
As a Midnight Genius-in-waiting,
Nighttime… his light for creating;
The most intricate problems he’d delve
The moment his clock struck twelve,
Suntime… he was apt to bide and wait,
Knowing his boundaries in that state;
Incredibly, no mortal practices this rite,
Improbably, fade to genius at midnight.

If others’ rebuking issued much, such fray,
He would, simply, stall another whole day,
Neutering all rebukers, his clock the fixer,
As he awaits the nighttime, and its elixir;
Suntime… muddle through continuing blasé,
Knowing he’d play God at the end of day,
Nighttime… brilliance as light would fade,
Continuing his nightly, classical crusade;
Knowing his difference and his dark worth,
The Midnight Genius ruled the dark earth.

The Midnight Genius©
Rob Spina