Beated Brows

Beated brows not faking,
Troubled minds in paradise...
Dismayed and breaking.
As pretense charaded fades.
To leave a sour taste,
Unfamiliar to digest...
These sweetless days.

Deep are the grooves,
Wrinkling to dry twisted faces.
Erasing disbelief...
Once guaranteed relief.
And promised retreat,
From rumors of deceit.
Left on random doorsteps.

Beated brows squeezed,
By a ceased feeding fed...
On greed supplied diminishing.
Feeling down in the dumps,
And betrayed...
Yet hoping their own dismay,
Will one day restore,
A return of their delusions.
With a ridding from them truth,
Too unbearable to accept...
As a permanent existence.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Comments (1)

Indeed it is cruel when people hasten the wear of time, beating each other down, or undermining themselves.