It is late now,

The day hangs heavy

On my shoulders.

The night does not comfort me

As I know you could.

Pavarotti sings loudly.

My thoughts are with you,

My insecurity reigns,

I look at myself

Coldly,

Such flaws,

I hide from you.

While Pavarotti sings.

Dreams are never mine,

Though I try to dream

Of you.

Belfast streets haunt,

Should I bring this pain

To you?

As Pavarotti sings?

Maybe sleep will

Reach me,

Teach me,

I should trust

In you,

Then sleep will come.

For me, and for Pavarotti.

                                          _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn