Waste

Some languish, having fallen in the well
Of loneliness, that melancholy hell-
While others cling where they are sure to die
In vines they are unable to untie.

The silent empty evenings steal one’s breath,
Another struggles through a living death-
The have and have nots, neither one can win-
Denial stirs this special brew of sin.

The windows tease, the teary eyes can see
The dream of life each wishes theirs could be-
Two wrongs without the means to make things right
As haunting truth lies barely out of sight.

As time of life so quickly bleeds away
With prayers unanswered for another day,
I’ve not a clue to say which one is worse-
But nobody should live with such a curse.

How would it hurt to call these demons out?
Insisting pain is not what life’s about.
The choice is ours- to wade a lake of tears-
Or take a chance in spite of all the fears.


John H. Bidwell