Day and then Night

In my possession is a magicians hat that pulls out excuses instead of rabbits.
Excuses that fill up my day..some of which have atrophied, some evaporated, some lingered on as hobbies and habits.
And that is my day
crammed to the throat
copiously abundant
to the point of ugly bloat
with excuses to stay busy
some which spill over
into the next day, and I roll my eyes dramatically dizzy.
oh I'm so lazy (I feign) a yawn..didn't even realize, the day has come and gone

Enter night left of stage, right through my window
with trepidation I realize
no gullible little fool this
this discerning night
turning blind eye to my excuses
gazing accusingly at me
knowingly scrutinizing. Challenge accepted! I'll give it a fight.
skinny, dark, thin. tar black and pricks like a pin
I open a book and stare at words, I'm reading..only I'm not
my little theatric of excuses
coming undone each filthy night
still pretending to read, I think I might get caught, by this thousand eyed gloom
that lingers on in my room
dusk to noon. It knows my little charade
when each time I turn a page immersed in plot
and stifle a real yawn
when I masquerade into a poem or pretend to art. When I adjust my spectacles, sneering into the day, laughing at it gobble my excuses.
When night comes, it tears down that singular facade
my pretty veneer of smug smart.
Dearest night..gimme a break. Have a heart!