The Silent, Lonely Nights.

Thu, 07/25/2013 - 13:55 -- Eyeager

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I remember

 

The silent, lonely nights

Where I sat, a small child,

With nothing but a book as a friend.

 

My stuffed toys would smile

and watch me read

while I would think of a new story for them to tell.

 

Sometimes, my tiny laugh would pierce the air;

a small, simple sound

brought about by Silverstein or Rodda.

 

And then I’d read a story,

                                                                Or two,

                                                                                                Or three.

 

Dragons would fly

and fight the daring hero;

the scenes danced in my lonely mind like a fire.

 

My toys, my only friends,

would pretend to be those heroes or villains

to cure my stinging loneliness.

 

But…

 

Soon, the toys got tired

and asked to retire to the shelf,

so I sat alone once more.

 

But, the stories remained strong as ever,

lonely and crying out,

just like me.

 

So I wrote the stories out;

their world became mine,

their characters became my friends.

 

They fought for me,

laughed with me,

cried with me.

 

I still remember the lonely nights,

with a book as my only friend,

but now they remember with me.

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