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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1617563
Going home was hard for me.


A Good Night


“Tim“, my mother bellowed across the dusk of years
I trembled afar, knowing I was to near

Fading away, fun with the sun
Into darkness, which was my young

Street lights shine like a beacon of time
Summoning me to the edge of mind

Peers looked as I shrug my soul
Scampering toward the childless hole

Door open, eyes of fear
Wishing TV I would hear

“Clean up, eat up, your time is near”
Blankets calling to hug my fear

Warm is the quiet, and the cottony blend
Tonight I sleep,(sigh)…. tomorrow I mend.
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