Sunday, November 18, 2012


In desperation or possibily dessertion
Comfort in solitude
Knowing what is broken beyond repair
Will simply lie there

Hope is the cruelest of all intentions
To give or receive
Deception out of compassion
What is broken
Must be discarded

Is it possible in this disposable society
There are people beyond repair?
The fiction of love
Hope to remian unchanged.

In life there is one promise
Death will be its end.
Why promise emotion when moods so swiftly change
Why promise love that lasts only one day

This world is filled with possibility
Hope is not everywhere
It dies next to dumpsters
In hospitals
In prayers.

Hope dies with good intentions
And the evilest of lies.
What is broken must then lie
Alone until its demise
Broken dishes
Broken trust
Even broken lives.

Watch closely each face
Each alleyway you pass
Enjoy being given your one chance
For behind some door
A beating heart is no more
Waiting quietly to be discovered on the floor.

(C) R.M.Brandon 2012