I used to read
myself to sleep
A little girl
In her own little pink room
While the rest of the house
Snored their dreams away

Some nights the stories were
more important than the slumber
And the sun arose as I finished
a spectacular turn of events that
left me smiling, thinking,
....confused?

Page after page
my tired eyes,
little hands
grasped what was given
to me in the middle of the night
by some unknown
writers