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.

Silently praying

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!