Relocation
I look up at the deep blue sky,
Turning the world dark as the sun dies.
And even though I know it will come up tommorow,
I feel as if it will never rise again,
If only to dispel my darkest secrets,
and everyday worries that will forever be apart of me.
Becuase I know that twilight is when things come out,
Things that go bump in the night.
Amonst them are the abused,
Hiding with fear unknown to most.
Next are the criminals,
Whose souls have decayed,
From a fire of guilt and badly guided hate.
Then there are our average denizen,
Tired after a hard day's work.
They stumble around, ignoring there families with half-hearted,
"Next times." As they flounder for their beds.
Last on our list are the abusers,
The ones who hurt for fun.
It is they who thrust me these burdening secrets,
With no regard for the fact that they really shouldn't be mind.
And so, as I ponder my cumbersome situation,
I look upward at the twinkling night sky,
And I think,"Wait until sun up. For that is where my answere lies."
And sure enough, as dawn sweeps through my darkened city,
And birds chortle their mesmerizing tunes,
I wash off my makeup, showing my outer wounds.
Then I sneak off,
To those who will surely help.
And thus, by nightfall, when all of those I used to fear,
come out to sing their song,
and dance their deadly dance,
I am long gone,
In a place much safer than before:
Home.