A Dreay Night

Oh what a dreary night.
A cold, wet and sleepless night.
I can hear the rain between flashes and crashes,
playing its cadence upon my thin tin roof.
When will it stop? Why won’t it stop?
When will it leave me alone.

Here I lie in my bed unmoving,
thinking and blinking at every secant of light.
That horrid light, that torrid fright,
that lunges and plunges deep in my room.
I’m hiding, abiding beneath my quilt,
trying to escape the pulsating thunder,
invading my slumber with meanness and scorn.
Crudely it pounds and rudely it sounds,
sounds that are rolling, controlling my soul.
When will it stop? Why won’t it stop?
When will it leave me alone?

Oh what a dreary night.
A cold, wet and sleepless night.
When will it leave me alone.

A Dreay Night

Roger Sampson

Oliver Springs, United States

  • Artist
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