You

I may sleep listening

To the chronicles of the cracked TV,

Which is nothing more horrible

Than a sloppy song.

But I sleep on your lap

And nothing cracks in like that.

Rocking the chair I sit.

Doing the best thing I can do;

Over thinking.

Tears drenching down my neck,

A rub on my head

Is all I expect from you.

While my shadows pretend me

As a mere piece of existence;

You come in and make sure

I think of you and care for you

Bringing out all that hidden energy.

Making me a piece of love.