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Tags: life, sadness


As I pen this tome,

I once again,

Find myself alone.


When I was young,

I had such dreams,

I wasted them all,

Falling apart at the seams.


My life was lived,

In parceled moments,

The ones I loved,

Became opponents.


The joy within,

That young boy’s laughter,

Became cries to the man,

Losing what I sought after.


What chance had I,

Being the likes of me,

For who could place value,

On a mud-crusted penny.


I forlornly watched,

As the roses bloomed,

Knowing already,

That my own garden was doomed.


I failed that boy,

As a man, I couldn’t see,

That I lived down,

To my own prophecy.


He kneels head down,

I let his laughter go to waste,

Angry at the man,

For a life, he’ll never taste.


The boy that once was,

Became the man that I am,


Forever damned.


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2010-2040 LDJohnson (Dreamcatcher) - All rights reserved - This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified, distributed, copied in part or its entirety without prior permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction or personal events. Names, characters, places, and descriptions of incidents are products of this author's imagination, fictitiously expressed, personal experience or the humble opinion of this author. Any similarities to actual persons or events is coincidental and subject to this author's determination.

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