Something Gnaws At Me

Something gnaws at me

Shredding the scars of my heart

Left to bleed again

Cleanly cut by razor blades

Love’s left to spill on the floor

Why pain in passion

So much that it breaks the heart


Is not love the greatest joy

As promised from up above

Perhaps I’m fickle

Believing that love is grand

Like in fairytales

If this turns out to be false

Then I am a born victim


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Lover’s Broken Heart

Lover’s broken heart

What thrives in the aftermath

But bitterness…hate

Weeds choke off one’s passion

Leaving nothing but wasteland

In trepidation

Pain foments until putrid

Romance the victim

With trust shattered like blown glass

The wounds bleed until bled out


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


I Entertained The Thought of Loving You

I entertained the thought of loving you,

But a selfish heart was blind to all except its own conceits.

No time for anyone else,

Nothing but what satisfied its needs.

You offered love,

You offered kindness, compassion and passion,

The fool that I was missed it

Or chose not to see it.

Really–what’s the difference;

Blind is blind,

Ignorance is ignorance,

Splitting hairs is all that it is.

Does it really matter what its called?

You said you were leaving,

Did I try to stop you…


I watched you walk away;

Not one tear in my eye,

Nary an ache in my heart,

Only perhaps a touch of relief for the freedom.

It makes me sick to think about it,

Embarrassed, ashamed.

Years passed and chance reared its head,

You never gave up on me,

Never hated me as I hated myself.

Your love for me remained though I didn’t deserve it.

I was not worthy.

I eventually grew up, throwing aside my childish ways,

Realizing that who stood before me was exactly who I wanted,

Exactly who I wanted to give my love to.

You took me in,

Sheltered me,

Loved me,

Forgave me my insensitivity,

My foolhardiness;

Never reminding me of it..

How can I ever thank you enough for saving me

…From myself


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Glass So Delicate Easily Breaks (Sonnet)

Glass so delicate easily breaks

Throwing, dropping–it matters not

A million shards will be its fate

Not unlike the tender heart


When handled coarsely it slowly bleeds

Crimson tears that may never heal

A gentle touch is what it needs

Embraced by passionate lovers feel


Absent the heart will surely shred

Perhaps forever left in ruin

All hope for love is left for dead

What remains of the heart are strewn


That which is fragile must be treated with care or damage permanent may be done

For the passion of lovers is something they share on their journey to meld into one


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Hearts In Fondness (Sonnet)

Hearts in fondness through distance do grow

Realizing in separation what for granted they take.

Something only two true lovers would know,

The commitment to each other the couple did make.


Irrational though sometimes the heart may appear

It knows what it wants without the logic of mind.

Enveloping in love the one held most dear

Just as it did at the beginning of their time.


Fickle they say is the lovers true love;

Blind to the dangers that lurk just beyond.

Intentions more pure than the whitest of doves,

Laid bare for the unfaithful their heart to abscond


Though pitfalls abound on this journey of the ages,

Not one thing would I change as this book turns its pages.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Broken Hearts and Broken Dreams

Broken hearts and broken dreams left among the ashes

Ruins in the wake of the tsunami–your selfish desires.

Scavengers scour through the wreckage for sustenance

Finding nothing but crumbs left for them to fight over.

Is commitment so distasteful that exile is the only cure?

What of those cast aside, banished to Elba–victims,

Are they simply expendable for your greater good?

O’ what blackness must thrive in your narcissistic soul,

Pitiful…flourishing in this loveless existence of yours,

Choosing loneliness over the love and warmth of another,

Hiding like a coward behind a cold and hollow heart.

Like a lion you search for your next meal

Feasting, gorging hungrily as if this may be your last,

But you know it won’t, there is always another prey,

One that thinks it can tame you to save themselves.

Who is fooling who in this eternal struggle?

You are the sly one, knowing this is sleight of hand

Leading on those that offer you their hearts

Until you grow weary of their affections.

Tossing them on the heap

You grind their souls and their passions into dust.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Does She Dream–She Dreams No More (Sonnet)

Does she dream–she dreams no more,

Though mother grieves, her spirits flown.

Tears are shed in torrents, stain upon the floor,

In her heart of hearts she has most surely known.


Knowledge diminishes not a mother’s sorrow,

Science cold, offers no sympathetic relief.

Knowing there will be no more tomorrows,

Does little to quench her wrenching grief.


Its time she needs to weep and mourn,

A daughter lost to procedure routine.

To unite and mend a family torn,

By results unexpected, gross and obscene.


Her passing a reminder of the commonplace, still serious,

And the pain no less painful turns a family delirious.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~