The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated May 21, 2008
Questions in the Night
She asked if I still dreamed of her as a special lover.
My mouth swiftly indicted me when I suppose I could’ve lied.
The words tumbled from my lips before I’d thought it over.
She walked away sore wounded; she closed the door and cried.
Why, oh, why
Do I do these things to you?
Try and try
To keep you from feeling blue
Why, oh, why
Does it never turn out right?
When we ask each other
Questions in the night.
Heart in hand, I approached her and tried to set it right,
But my thoughts were all a-jumble and my words all sounded terse.
She rolled over, back toward me, switched off the bedroom light.
Wrapped in a sheet of silence; instead of better, it was worse.
In the darkness, standing there, I felt the world grow cold.
My heart welled up inside me but I pushed the thoughts below.
Considered how these careless words made both of us feel old.
Imagined scars and marks they’d leave, and my tears began to flow.
I pondered how she must be feeling, if I could make things right.
And slid beneath the cool dark covers beside my darling one.
Her breath was even, her body taut, lay still to me that night;
While I waited for another chance illum’ed by a new day’s sun.
Perhaps I slept, perhaps I dreamed, perhaps it was of her.
The visions I beheld that night made me mindful of her charms.
When I awoke I knew one thing, I was certain, I was sure,
We must truly be in love, tangled in each other’s arms.
I whispered I was sorry, never meant to cause her pain.
Despite mistakes, misunderstandings, doubts, or cold regret;
She accepted it so quickly it was evident and plain,
We’d work it out because we knew... We loved each other yet.
Why, oh, why
Did I do those things to you?
Tried and tried
To let you know I’m true
Why, oh, why
Does it seldom turn out right?
When we’ve asked each other
Questions in the night.
Poetry by The Blue-eyed Bipedal Bookworm from Betelgeuse
Blue-Eyed BiPedal Bookworm from Betelgeuse
