I awake,
Dreams burdened with your eyes.
A recollection of temperance
From a soul as empty
as the spirits in a glass.
My mind remains heavily weighted,
with unfair remnants
of celestial lies.
Cold,
Creeping,
Despair.
“He would have been a boy”,
She said…
I sometimes wish
I was a glass.
It’s easier to break without a soul.
Copyright (C) David DeSantis
David DeSantis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/isolation-at-sunrise/
