Venom in wretched hearts doth flow,

Poisoning the mind, the body, the soul.

Sinking yellowed claws, they refuse to let go,

Dragging us down into blackened hole.

.

Choosing to wallow in pity, our woeful state,

Winding path we refuse to veer.

Preferring to traipse the same abject fate,

As if it were something we held so dear.

.

Nay–this is not how we were created,

With sorrow and fear to guide our way.

This truth could never be overstated,

If we change with the dawn of another day.

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Pessimism serves none, but the weakest of spirit,

But optimism doth breed success to those that will hear it.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~