• Witled Happiness

    The bright sun shines but it cannot reach,
    The deep dark recesses of a blackened hole,
    it cannot breach.
    Melancholy,
    Sadness,
    my sigh reveals,
    What an unhappy smile crumbles to conceal.
    For what began as great, gold, and shining,
    Shrank into rusty brass and wilted dying.
    But care four you I still do,
    even though I dared to wait.
    Now time has passed and it seems at last,
    that I suffer an untimely fate.
    To bloom into a passionate red rose is what I wished,
    but now it seems,
    That to rely on wishes without action,
    is no way to dream.