Four in the morning, mother was screaming

            But the screams weren’t in anger, only slightly in pain

            But mother and father smiled moments later

            And everything changed

            And father cried

            Thomas, they said

            Because that was his name

            And he was what their world was about.

 

Five in the morning, Thomas was crying

            And father came in the room

            And gave him a hug

            And Thomas said he had a bad dream

            And father said that it was all okay

            Because that was what he was supposed to do

            And father tucked him into bed

            Then kissed him on the forehead

            So Thomas fell asleep

            And father went back to mother and said everything was fine

            So mother returned to sleep

            Because she was concerned

            And Thomas was their son, and he was what it was all about

 

Six in the morning, Father knocked on the door

            And said, “get up”

            And walked away

            But it was still dark outside

            But Thomas woke up

            And put on his clothes

            And mother handed him waffles

            Because Thomas needed breakfast

            And he was late for school

            And father was frustrated

            But Thomas knew not why

            But mother kissed Thomas goodbye

            Because that was the thing to do

            And Thomas was her son, and he was what it was all about

 

Seven in the morning, Thomas woke up

            And grabbed his things,

            But father and mother were asleep

            And he drove himself to school

            And teacher gave back his test

            And Thomas sunk in his chair

            30 minutes later, the bell rang

            And teacher called him over

                        Tom, what’s going on—is something bad at home?

            But Thomas just shrugged his shoulders

            And he sat alone at lunch

            And he had few friends

            And then he went home

            Father and mother were yelling

            So he went to his room, and went to bed

            And mother cried, and left

            Because she couldn’t take it

            But she was selfish, Thomas was her son

            But he wasn’t what it was all about

 

Eight in the morning, Thomas leaves school

            And he should be in English

            But he can’t take it

            So he gets in his car

            And drives to his house

            And when he gets home, he walks up the stairs

            And he takes his belt off

            And hangs it in his closet

            And he looks in the mirror and admits defeat

            Because he can’t take it

            And he’s all-alone

            And he wants peace

            Because that’s what it is all about.

 

Nine in the morning, they all line up in black

            And mother is screaming

            This time in pain

            And father isn’t smiling

            And everything changes

            And friend is crying, but he gets up

            Thomas, he says

            That was his name,

            And Thomas was love

            And Tom wanted love

            Because that is what people need

            And love is what it is all about