Alone At Night Poem by Lorene Kinsey

By day she is an oak tree,
Weathering change and strife,
By night she is a shivering pup
Longing to be held tight.

Her skin made all of leather
When the sun is high,
Then weeps upon her pillow case
As she lays alone each night.

Wonders why so many lie
They'd like to be by her side,
But the one that she is married to
Could care less that she is his wife.

Finally his light comes on,
alas his love is found,
but she has grown quite tired of being
the last person he wants around.

Will not be a trophy,
a title he refuses to lose,
too late now, that he might want
to keep the woman
that has long since turned him loose.