The Long Lonely Nights Of Fibromyalgia

PHOTOGRAPH BY PAUL D. GLOVER: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY PAUL D. GLOVER PHOTOGRAPHY

Yes! “The Sensory Overload” AKA, “The Sunburned Senses Of Fibromyalgia” is coming soon! I am busy researching and preparing for this exciting, upcoming post. This particular subject is cutting edge and very new ground in the world of fibromyalgia. I am on a time crunch finishing my Certified Paranormal Investigation course and need to finish it in the next three days, so I am taking this opportunity to share a poem I wrote about two years ago. This poem is very close to my heart and is very personal…. and powerful.

PHOTOGRAPH BY PAUL D. GLOVER: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY PAUL D. GLOVER PHOTOGRAPHY

One of the most difficult things fibro patients can face is insomnia. Hopefully the words of this poem can tell the story in a way

The Early Morning Hours Of The Night

By: Kelli Coleman Glover


It’s so quiet in the early morning hours of the night
As I sit with my pain and worry in the dark, waiting for the light
They say stay positive and it will be alright
But they who say that, know not my plight
So I sit, in the early morning hours of the night; waiting, worrying, wondering; will everything be alright?


The smallest sounds are so amplified during these minutes of the night
The hum of a machine, the rhythmic breathing of another human being
Every small sound, made so big; every single worry set out before me
Every thought, every fear, every notion; nothing is made clear
In these early morning hours of the night, as I sit in the dark, waiting for the light
They say stay positive and it will be alright
But they who say this know not my plight
So I sit, in the early morning hours of the night: waiting, worrying, wondering; will everything be alright?


I do not apologize, for I have a right, to feel whether others think it is wrong or right
As I sit in the early morning hours of the night; waiting; worrying; wondering; will everything be alright?
They say stay positive and it will be alright
But they who say this know not my plight
Some judge harsh, for it is true, these that judge like this have never known true doom
They judge every word you say, every thing you do; never knowing you or the intention of your ways
They make themselves the victims, the ‘whoa is me’; they have never known real pain and I truly hope for them it continues to be
Do not judge my plight, for you haven’t a clue
You do not know what real pain is; but believe me, I do
In the early morning hours of the night
I sit and wait, will it be alright?
I walk humped over, the Doctor calls it a gait
It is noted on my files, at least it is official and not just hearsay
In the early morning hours of the night
It is so quiet, will it ever be alright?
I limp around in pain, as quiet as can be, waiting for the darkest hour
For the dawn follows closely
The light of day and I can move about
I will not be alone, but my pain will still shout! Anger! Throb! Burn! Knotted up! Pound! Pound!

In the early morning hours of the night
When it hurts so badly, I cannot bring slumber to my eyes
I sit in the room, all alone in my pain
While others sleep, oblivious to my strain
Do they not know the horror of my life
The horror that I face, night after night
For sleep rarely comes but pain comes always
Will I ever sleep again? Oh wait, yes, I will sleep when I am dead

In the early morning hours of the night.
I sit alone, my pain and I
I know there are others, their stories like mine
They do not judge me, they know my plight
In the early morning hours of the night
As the tears roll down, I type and type.
Chronic pain is a torture, horrendous to bare
Remember next time you meet someone, somewhere
who is at mercy to this cross that we bear
In the early morning hours of night
I sit alone; alone with my plight’
Pain is strong, the night is long
No end in sight, so I will try to be strong.

Until next time: K.

PHOTOGRAPH BY: PAUL D. GLOVER : ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY PAUL D. GLOVER PHOTOGRAPHY

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