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Poem

These verses breath life as I weep,
thinking of the shortness of the earthly life;
and they can eternally live, in ageless time,
on the lips of common people that seek
an extraordinary purpose in their subtle defeat,
to build many fabulous dreams out of nothing....


Sorrow can't be masked by joy:
it's a temporary and distressing disguise, 
which nobody should hide behind it for long;
pretender, don't make up unconvincing excuses,
release your fallacious hand that clutches another prey:
it's the self-denial of a liar without courage...


Cry for yourself with ample empathy, remorse
has already shaken up your conscience,
and according to the sympathetic looks you received
by the closest friends who idolized your idealism,
whom you lured into your false kindness to achieve your egotistic dream;
now, you must feel the acute pain:  no guilt can easily be redeemed...    
     

An untruthful voice is only heard by deceitfulness,
it has an inner weakness that honesty awfully rejects;
purify your trust by the humblest spirit:
some are never forgiven by their foes and acquaintances,
Who will read me me these verses that breath life as I weep?
I have put on a Godly image without grief...  
 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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