by Steve Yeager,  Chris Midkiff and Nick Delonas   Latching the door at a two-star motel      an old mattress breaks his fall Opens his suit case and under its shell      he finds a tattered rag doll He can see      small flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him He cries, “Sad dark room I’m not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me.” Taped to a small hand he finds a note: “Dear dad I packed this for you.” “Annie’s my best friend,” his daughter wrote, “you won’t get lonely, it’s true.” He can see      small flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him He cries, “Sad dark room, I’m not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me.” Somewhere a young child sleeps by herself hoping that dad will come home Somewhere a rag doll sits high on a shelf, now free to be on her own He can see      small flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him He cries, “Sad dark room, I’m not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me.” Flickering night lights -- far-distant sirens -- teasing and calling him He cries, “Sad dark room, I’m not alone. Raggedy Ann still loves me.” Still loves me Still loves me Still loves me She loves me!