on my own, it seems.
Missing all the brilliant dreams
that shine as if the light
were always bright.
Can't hardly tell the right
from wrong these days.
The blacks and whites
have all turned into gray.
The spaces where I used to play
were sold unto the highest bidder.
Empty lots, once so uncluttered
carrying the weight of yet
another shopping center.
Newscasters talk, reporting
yet another great catastrophe.
Interspersed with squalls of bounty
sold within the gold advertisements.
Flaunting just how rich we used to seem.
But it was only just a dream, a wish.
It never did come true.
The happy endings moving out
whenever we came near.
A peculiar state of mind is in the air.
And I know I'm not the only one to notice.
We see, and more, we feel it happening.
That wide-spread lack of trust and pulling back.
Dull eyes that used to shine with hope.
The weight of worry on our backs.
Enlightenment that dulled with gross misuse.
Where once a helping had was offered,
more often now it's turned into a fist.
It's almost time to go to bed.
I close my eyes and shake my head.
The cobwebs start to loosen.
Contented with the little I have chosen.
Glad to be alive, if not quite well.
Returned from yet another trip to hell.
The sun went down.
Life still went on.
The dawn is singing sweetly in the distance.
Reminding me of beauty born
in cycles that outlive the storms.
Not really on my own at all.
I hear earth's spirit calling.
Telling me I can endure
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .