Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Poem by Patrick William Kavanagh

I think of childish prayers, and all the silly promises I tried to keep.
Looking back on all the dreams I had, and how I thought my life would be.
How could I have ever realised the journey, stretching far ahead,
That, up to this quiet winter evening,
Would somehow, end as me.

What innocence, what beauty in the childish eye,
An eye that sees the wonder in the world so easily, for children do not even have to try.
The rough coarse skin of age can dull the senses, failing ears and failing sight,
The simple joys concealed by aches and pains, the openness that scars of life can hide,
The childish curiosity, from which we've turned aside,
Was probably the best that we could be.

Do you remember?
Can you recall a time when life seemed sweet and full of new delights,
Or was the life that you began, as tough in the beginning,
as it gets on cold wet winter nights, when we grow tired and frail.
The questions mount,
The ticking of the clock reminds me that my enemy is time,
and as the seconds pass me quickly by,
I lie upon my bed and wonder,
Turning questions into tattered rhyme.