Dark
The shadows infiltrate my warm daydreams, as that familiar sadness grips my heart.
Sinister whispers within the summer breeze convincing me the light is really the dark...
Thunder booms overhead... A threat of a late May storm...
Dread swirls through my mind as the dark afternoon clouds form...
And as I grow ever acutely aware of the passing of time,
I realize I've never really done much. Just a bad poet spouting useless rhymes...
I've had colossal success as a failure...My hope is as faded as my doubt...
My regrets weigh down my pockets, as I turn them inside out...
Maybe later I'll take a walk in the park... Perhaps later, maybe in the dark...
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2014
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