Sadness Play Reality

The ache is real,

unspeakable at times,

only once do I recall,

I felt ok and able to deal

with mild scrutiny.


I wonder who the speaker is

today, when in a fast few,

the imagination is able

to slowly sway

toward oblivion.


I began to know

one afternoon,

when suddenly my emotions

poured freely without instance,

into this pool of words.


Again, in this hour I have fear,

undefined with little access

to optimism or honorable


Only the reality of time.


Suppose we all experience

some loss when

in a slow vacuum

our lives become exposed

to sombre inefficient news.


I wish the roller-coaster,

ever so present in my mind,

the conveyer draws me forward

without any allowance.

I wonder if it would be true.


Is this situational, or ever present,

how many years later,

do I recall the same anxiety,

menacing and ever present,

always a … reminder.


When in the forefront of memory,

remains those mindful idyllic dreams.

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