Hazy Days

If you work too hard,
You might just find
That things are not at all
That well-defined.

If you stay up late,
The days, the blur,
And become a smudge,
A haze, a slur.

Only with order
Can the passage of days
Make things clearer,
And less of a haze.

But at times,
That's out of the question,
As the work weighs heavy,
And becomes time's sequestrion.