Hours of the night I sat
Thinking about myself,
Finding all the good I could
And looking at what needs help.
I saw there were a lot of things
That I would like to change.
Yet glad there were so many things
That, fortunately, have stayed the same.
Time alone, all by myself,
It’s the only way I can think.
For I fall easy to ridicule.
With criticism I shrink.
Morning nearing, I grew so weary.
It was time to get some sleep.
But it felt great to feel good inside,
For the respect was running deep.
2-16-1990 Friday early morning 5am
Written by Gail Brookshire