My Poem

Young Night Thought



All night long and every night,

When my mama puts out the light,

I see the people marching by,

As plain as day, before my eye.



Armies and emperors and kings,

All carrying different kinds of things,

And marching in so grand a way,

You never saw the like by day.



So fine a show was never seen

At the circus on the green;

For every kind of beast and man

Is marching in that caravan.



At first they move a little slow,

But still the faster on they go,

And still beside them close I keep,

Until we reach the town of sleep.





                                    Robert Louis Stevenson