There's a certain time of day
That, for no apart reason or way
Certain neurons fire  in my head
And left Side my brain wakes up from a dead sleep
And my creativity meter goes from a 1 to 10 in a big leap
And poems begin to fire off in my head 
And part of me that's, while still  there  , is mostly un-spoken, glows in red

Ideas are born 
Dreams are made 
Problem or solve
Money is save 

11 o'clock is my miracle hour
As big hand point at VI symbol on the clock tower
And the old German coo coo cluck ring loudly 11 times for to hail in the new hour
The left side of my brain rises up in all power
And I go for analytical to artsy for about 2 and  1/2 an hours

 O story come up with
O Poems
The ballad
In my head
They are all so red with passion
And they all begs to be written
I type so fast my ,finger afterwards,feel like they're dead 
In fact tonight , I already written about  5 poem and working on one in my head


11 o'clock is glorious time
In my head there's not a doubt
However there's  one problem I left unsaid
The problem is that at
11 o'clock pm
Is when my parents send me to bed