Tears Before Bed Time
Another wet pillow night

Tears Before Bed Time
Night folds me in its hand,
and the shadows grow longer.
The day is finished now,
but the ache does not rest.
A pillow waits in silence,
it gathers what I give.
Tears before bed time,
fall soft without reply.
They soak the cotton deep,
leaving no mark by morning.
Yet the sadness remains,
an echo in my chest.
I close my eyes for peace,
but peace will not appear.
Instead I see the faces,
that memory will not free.
Tears before bed time,
become a kind of prayer.
I hope the night will answer,
but it never speaks at all.
Lonely is the hour,
when the world has gone to sleep.
I whisper to the silence,
and the silence whispers back.
Still I let the tears fall,
for they are mine to give.
A ritual of sorrow,
a comfort born of pain.
By morning I will rise,
and hide the night away.
But tears before bed time,
will return again tonight.

About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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