It's very hard to keep a lightly sleeping roommate sleeping when you're up late and doing things. I feel bad. I tend to bang things around, sometimes.
So I wrote a poem, for very little reason other than it makes me happy to do so.
Two rivers got the best of me,
The Hudson and the Trinity;
yet only one led out to sea.
The bridges must be weeping.
While half my world is vastly paved
The other's wand'ring minds have caved
To Just How Many Souls Are Saved?
But hush, my roommate's sleeping.