Late at night,
When all is quiet,
And sleep is supposed to be sweet,
I lay awake.
I lay awake,
Counting the stars
Through our hole-studded iron sheets.
That it does not rain again.
My silent prayer is not heard,
I hear thunder rumbles in the distance
And I know it is going to be a stormy night.
I am ashamed to look at you
Because I have failed to provide.
I am no longer the man you loved.
The children start calling,
The rain falls heavier,
Threatening our already tired roof.
The ensuing cacophony
Brings me out of my reverie
The children are hungry again!