The Side
There are many nights, when I'm all alone.
The bedroom, the pillow. a small simple room.
I lie on my side, so quiet, the night,
Should I get up again for a snowy screen light.
Should I turn once more, should I creep down the hall.
Despite all this, I turn to the wall.
And instead of sleeping, when the sun takes it's rest.
I stare at the cracks, the paint, the chest.
And when the numbness kicks in, I turn once again.
A bathroom light, a closet, a fan whirling wind.
Ah yes, and then, normality sinks in...
And of all these objects, so aloof, so kempt.
I envy their apathy, I envy descent.
Wishful thinkings and longings of a a complete empty mind,
Tears of anxiety and fears of all kind.
Please give me sleep, please, make me less more.
I wish to be barren of feelings no more.
I ask you my friend, as I step in the wall.
Nail all of these boards, nail one, nail all.
And when the day comes, when a soul trembles with fear.
They'll hear my soft tapping... and know someone's is here.
And they shall sleep, so sweet, so deep in a dream.
For without them, they'll be lost, and forget what they mean.
Copyright © Amy Greaves | Year Posted 2007
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