The night dreams
And I am locked in.

Death speaks to me
Of love
On silken wings.

The grasses hush and weep....

I am terrified
To come out
Of my bedroom;
To open the door,
To go downstairs.

Shouting and arguing for hours
Is all I hear.

So instead I lie in bed reading
Or writing poetry,
Listening to Jimi Hendrix records.

- I lie there dreaming
Of happier times
That will never come.

©Jack Aylward,
16/4/12