Intemperate Mood

Intemperate mood greets the day,

An avalanche of negativity,

Red carpet for angry outbursts.

Circumstances–weakness of the mind

Blossoms into crimson rage;

Control unattainable.

Justifying actions, so mortal

Refusing to admit humanness, so flawed.

This cannot go on,

This must not go on for sanity’s sake.

Composure must be restored,

Blood pressure, headaches put in check

Anger tamped down.

Knowing this does not diminish the effects

Detrimental and painful.

Deep breaths, soothing mantras serve to calm

Restoring semblance of normalcy.

Considering what could have been done better,

Injecting positivity into aura

Brightening an otherwise dismal day.

Finding balance within

Returns the soul to peace

From the precipice of spiritual disaster.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Venom in Wretched Hearts Doth Flow (Sonnet)

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.


Pessimism serves none, but the weakest of spirit,

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


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~