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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1791510-The-night-wears-on
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by Morcac Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1791510
A short poem about childhood.
The light it glints upon the grass,
as the fire dies so fast.
But for now the flames are still bright,
mesmerizing is the sight.
And though we shall see this again,
the fire always draws me in.
I feel myself drifting to sleep.
as the bright flames seem to leap.
Where am I now? I'm in my bed,
where are they, those flames so red?
And then my head begins to clear,
I see that dad is quite near.
I realize what happened then,
as I slept he brought me in.
and now I sink into my bed,
with a pillow at my head.
The night wears on the night wears on, and of it I remember none

When I awake it comes to me,
it is summer, time to be.
I run downstairs, but then I slow,
it's day, but the light is low.
Anticipate, for mom to rise,
a light's glinting in my eyes.
An hour is gone before she wakes,
I am bored and my head aches.
It will be soon now that she's here,
even now my friends feel near.
But when I ask if we'll go soon,
She says we won't leave till noon.
Now I'm glum, at the clock I stare,
a bored silence in the air.
After ages I'm in the car,
the park right now, seems so far
The ride is long, again it seems,
I'll drift off, into dull dreams.
Then we arrive, I see my friends,
every thought of boredom ends.
I journey through lands not explored,
and we meet a mighty lord.
Then it is time to say goodbye,
I enter the car and sigh.
I fall asleep on the ride  home,
and in dreams new lands I roam.
The night wears on the night wears on, and of it I remember none.

Years from then I'm now looking back,
All the simple things life now lacks
But now the road is hard and long,
it seems my life has gone wrong.
Sometimes I long for simple years,
when I know nought today's fears.
Sometimes at night when I'm in bed,
there's still that hero in my head.
The night wears on the night wears on, and of it I remember none.

8-7-8-7-8-7... A few exceptions
© Copyright 2011 Morcac (morcachomrin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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