Time For Bed

Those last waning hours of listening to time,

wondering is a lovely virtue.

One can spend a day trying to find a solution,

while a sun will rise in morning.

My day is sometimes spent on the road,

taking people across town.

Most are happy, content to have a driver,

keeps life simple, little conflict.

Every night I seem to find my way to this

place I cannot leave behind.

I wish I knew how long before the outcome,

the questions rise within the pain.

Sometimes at night I try to corral my anxiety.

Tonight I’ll count on my dreams.