As night draws close and darkness nears
The quiet times I do not fear
These quiet moments become so dear
All idle thoughts, from the backroads, appear
*
For quiet is when my thoughts are best
My busy mind is never at rest
All problems can be put to the test
All solutions, conclusions, I can attest
*
For in the quiet, my imagination
Soars swiftly, nimbly with explanations
And solutions so clear, to my exasperation
Appear to me as if with inspiration
*
Then, solutions for problems, that were so plain
Seem to dissolve like salt in rain
In the morning light, they quickly wane
Their former brilliance, I cannot attain
*
And life crowds in, and soon I have lost
the purpose of thought, and at what cost?
and try as I may, my brain I'll exhaust
The quiet, dear times to the side I have tossed