There’s a profound sadness
To the death of dreams.
When hope withers
And days stand still;
Drifting one into another
And another.

The gentle touch of success,
Simple in any form,
Withdrawn.

The golden rays of sunshine
Shrouded in
Black clouds.

The new hopes and prospects
Foiled by an
Unseen hand.

Time lingers and
Dangles, like a carrot,
The portent of change
That remains unfulfilled
Except by a profound sadness.