In the Dead of Night

 

Tucked up in my bed one night

Not sleeping lying wide awake

Mind working overtime on the problems life creates

 

I close my eyes but still I see

A million things that bother me

Some cause me pain, some make me weep, will I ever go to sleep?

I’m talking but my lips don’t move,

My voice is silent too, am I really dreaming or is it really true.

 

I ponder over this, I wonder over that

I ask a million questions, no one answers back

As if I am alone but everyone is there,

I am asking why but do they really care.

 

Things that I don’t think about in the light of day

 

A thought for the one who’s hungry,

The one who has no home,

A child I saw who looked so sad, because he had no love

I remember how he smiled when they gave him a hug

His little face lit –up like, ten thousand candles, burning bright

These things I think of, in the dead of night.

 

I thought all we really need,

Is someone to be there, to tell us sometimes that they really care?

Then I asked,

In one hundred years, when I’m dust and air,

Will it really matter that I really cared?

 

This time I have the answer;

“Of course it does you see”

I’m only passing on the care and love

That someone gave to me.

 

“In the Dead of Night” © Carmine Grimshaw