The Hand Beside Me, a poem by Daphne Tore / Dean Thorpe
Laying there in his safe, warm bed Work ideas running through his head He knows he needs to get some sleep Escape this world and dream so deep A few hours left until the morn The dark around him feels so warm The only light is from the moon There is not a sound in the room He feels the bed move, someone there He is relaxed and doesn’t care Laying there in the middle of night He feels the child’s hand grip his tight The tiny fingers grip his hand And then he starts to understand He sits up straight, with such a start There is a pounding in his heart The bed beside him is just bare He lives alone, nobody there!
Evil people around us, a poem by Daphne Tore / Dean Thorpe
Sometimes in this life, told the truth must be Of all the bad times, set those secrets free Show them who is boss, the power of the word Shout it out at them, make sure the whole world heard Make them feel the shame, of evil they have done Have faith in yourself, your not the only one Let them feel the pain, and sadness you went through Make them understand, the wrong they did to you. A child is a gift, not something to abuse Someone to protect, not someone you can use There is no excuse, no reason they can give What they did is wrong, something’s you can’t forgive