AR (3-2-1945 / California)

Broken Dreams

Slowly she taps the dust pan
On the rim of the trash can
Broken glass memories start to fall
From an old picture frame I don’t recall
I see shattered expressions I don’t know
How can a marriage get this low
Last night in full light of a candle flame
Our shadows danced up on the wall but no words came
Tension hanging in the air thick enough to squeeze
Sometimes silence speaks mountains of subtleties
Our sweat and tears can fill an ocean
And ride out the stormy waves of emotion
And like the tide that goes out and comes in
We sometimes let frivolity under our skin
Who can learn to laugh
When bleeding hearts are torn in half
So we let the darkness overtake us
And what does that make us
Losers of unwanted schemes
Alas, creators of broken dreams

by Alfred Ramos

Comments (1)

Al this is such a moving poem, we are creators of broken dreams indeed.