Midnight Hours
In the dark of the night I sit alone and think about the way things have gone and what I could have done to make them right.
In the empty hours between midnight and dawn I watch my lover and wonder when my time will come.
I wonder about all the things I have said, wanted to say but didn't, and the things that never came to mind at the time they were needed.
I sit and wonder at the loneliness that I strive everyday to keep at bay behind a wall of apathy.
In these moments I can be as truthful with myself as I can without pretense or vanity.
Honest in the fact that I think know who I am and what I have become in my life.
As the hours tick away I find myself walking from one room to the next. Never really paying any attention to where I am or how I got there.
I'll look in on the light of my life and remember the cruel words I spoke to his mother:
"We're just not ready for a child"
Grateful in the fact that his mother was less selfish than I.
I stand in his dorrway and cry to myself as I watch him sleep fitfully, knowing that whatever dreams he has will vanish in the first rays of morning as I leave for work.
Some nights I'll crawl into his little bed and hold him, even though he fights me in his sleep. At least I can be there for him at night.
(Never during the day)
Before I know it the night is gone...
In the dark of the night I sit alone and think about the way things have gone and what I could have done to make them right.
In the empty hours between midnight and dawn I watch my lover and wonder when my time will come.
I wonder about all the things I have said, wanted to say but didn't, and the things that never came to mind at the time they were needed.
I sit and wonder at the loneliness that I strive everyday to keep at bay behind a wall of apathy.
In these moments I can be as truthful with myself as I can without pretense or vanity.
Honest in the fact that I think know who I am and what I have become in my life.
As the hours tick away I find myself walking from one room to the next. Never really paying any attention to where I am or how I got there.
I'll look in on the light of my life and remember the cruel words I spoke to his mother:
"We're just not ready for a child"
Grateful in the fact that his mother was less selfish than I.
I stand in his dorrway and cry to myself as I watch him sleep fitfully, knowing that whatever dreams he has will vanish in the first rays of morning as I leave for work.
Some nights I'll crawl into his little bed and hold him, even though he fights me in his sleep. At least I can be there for him at night.
(Never during the day)
Before I know it the night is gone...
[Edited on Jan 21, 2005 11:57PM]
[Edited on Jan 21, 2005 8:29PM]