Poetry

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Sometime between sundown and midnight
Somewhere between darkness and light
Demons come to my bed, taunting
It is time for my haunting
Their words are sharp, quick pointing
Guilty Of promises made and broken
Of messages entrusted to you, unspoken
Guilty they loudly proclaim
Of selfishness, not enough caring
Of laziness, not enough daring
And guilty you remain
In the wrong place, yet you stay
have all you need, and are not brave
These demons of mine are cruel and unkind
Even worse, so brutally truthful
As they tell of me, a tree, as yet unfruitful

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