As I lie in bed, prolonging the inevitable,
I hear the sounds of the wild things.
Running and stomping,
I close my mind to the sounds, roll over,
trying to catch a dream.
Then the trilling sounds of screaming,
vibrate through my bones.
The quest of sleep gone now,
I force myself to open my eyes,
The sounds of the dream still running,
When I notice my kids screaming and yelling.
The trilling sounds I thought were a dream,
Just my children, being wildly free.