Promises
Hopefully whole and dreadfully broken.
Rejoiced hearts, shattered dreams, unbearable pain.
The destiny of one, the fate of a million, different
Kinds of faces, tremendous joy or excessive pain
Hangs, like a portrait on a rusty nail,
On the spurious promises of ephemeral minds.
An expeditious wall of wretched waves crashing
On my mind like planes on terra firma.
The promises I have failed to keep, cost
Me dearly, berating my heart and robbing my sleep.
Anathemas form in my mind, I punch my pillow,
Longing to escape my shame, etched in my feet.
My feelings are stronger than ever
Evanescent flings with rationalizations
Leave me plunged in new discomfort.
I cannot run from my actions
I have to turn myself in-
to the man I should become.
Promises are the colours
Expressing the art of my content.
I crumble, re-erect and re-assess
Myself. The final mask has not been cast,
To the soles of my feet.
People who mean nothing and those
Who mean all, unlock my heart
And make me feel everything.
Promises are the epitome of me,
Stumbling in fates' cage, I yearn
A whole heart, by an honored promise.
Copyright © Chris Grundy | Year Posted 2012
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