There’s trouble at home, your parents are squabbling,
Dinner’s not cooked and your whole world is wobbling.
You retreat down the hallway and flop on your bed.
You wish they’d un-say the things that they said.
As you lie on your back and stare at the ceiling,
Shadows close in like the things that you’re feeling,
You hope that quite soon it will all settle down
And the tick of the clock is such a comforting sound.
You let your mind float; you relax and breathe deep,
And soon you’re drifting to a land beyond sleep…