Oct 21, 2010

A Broken Dream

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Your soul drips

from the pen,

to the poem that

you are writing.

Musing about a

broken dream,

all because you

let an angel

clip your wings.

You can still

see her eyes,

lit by the fire,

from the torch

that you are burning.

Many years

brought many tears,

and many more will

soon be arriving.

Gone are the days

when love poured

like the rain.

Now there stands

a man that is only

drenched in pain.

Time to come

back to reality,

broken one,

for your war

now it is over.

Lay down your

broken heart,

not another  bad

word spoken.

Come tell of all

you've been through,

and ease the

soul you're no

longer killing.

Rest your weary heart,

the last teardrop

must be shed.

Time won't hurry back,

time won't stall.

Time to forget the past,

brush the cobwebs

from your wall.

For you survived

to write a poem,

about a broken dream,

all because you

let an angel,

 clip your wings



Creative Commons License
This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

2 comments:

  1. Lovely, Dave! Yes, poems come out of our broken dreams, and after the poem is done, our clipped wings grow back again.

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  2. Love the poem. Life is full of broken dreams but out of ashes new dreams may come. I have a poem titled Dreams are Raining Down so I def connected w/ yours. I'm new to blogging so I'm loving coming across such talent.

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