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I always try to be good, sincere, and kind,
even with all the things weighing on my mind;
I push it all aside and try to help everyone else...
tell me, friend, what you think this poem tells.
When the day is gone and all is covered in the dark,
I go to them when all is silent and looks so stark.
Sometimes they will awaken in the wee morning hours,
and it seems confusion and fear over them towers.
They may get out of bed on their own or they may cry out,
I hurry to them to see what I can do, never do I shout.
The needs for each person and each time are never the same,
they almost always recognize me but can't remember my name.
I help them however I can, whether big or small,
so many times it seems to help, just to sit and talk.
Once I get them comfortable as can be back in bed,
I quietly leave and concentrate on the work ahead.
When the darkness is almost ready to subside,
I think of my work done and my heart fills with pride.
I hear the birds begin to awaken as the dawn breaks,
one by one, they all slowly begin to wake.
My time left with them is almost all gone...
althought the nights sometimes feel so long,
I hope as I drive home that I helped ease any fright...
is this why you called me their angel in the night?
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