Dust

By  brian francis

When dreams are cast away
and sorrow’s burden settles
When torment rips at one’s soul
and empties all vitality
hollow canyons wail
where once satisfaction flowed

We torment ourselves
with imagined outcomes
merely begging for another chance
Pain filled pleadings to grace
But the linear nature of our reality
precludes our delusion of possibility
spent, time passes inexorably on

Heavy is the only way to describe it
the feeling of one’s chest
when bound in the struggle
enduring the aching of regret
resilience bides its time well
and creeps in starts and fits
toying with memories
inspiring brief moments of joy

Healing comes as sure as morning
the taste of life once again
scars can often change perspectives
and make unsure our path ahead
tears will fall in spurts and sputters
but so will joy and laughing spree
somehow unknown life re-blossoms
we dare reach for the sun again


Copyright © 2020 brian francis

Published by

B. F. O'Connor

Born and raised in the idyllic environment of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. A rural paradise perfect for a roving childhood. Now living in the desert southwest, with a flock of parrots, a pigeon, and Three dogs.

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