~Prayer of a Troubled Child~

Here they
lay me
down
to sleep,
cold
and
too
subdued
to weep--
they do
not know
that I
am
dead,
that dreams
yet burn
within
my
head--
and if
I
rise
before
I wake,
I pray
the Lord
my sight
to
take,
that no
more
must
I see
but
death,
and only
hear
the fading
breath.

~(c) 7/00 The Mad Poet (A.K.LaBelle)