Stagnant Waters Their Diseases Yield

Stagnant waters their diseases yield,

Neglectful sores that never healed.

What once seemed healthy now reveals,

Sickness festering, under skin that’s pealed.

Seeking answers we look on high,

As scalpel cuts, we writhe and cry.

The blood doth stream until it’s dry,

Scarring seems as ever nigh.

We chose to hide our seething pain,

Though it cut against the grain.

Now unleashed this horrid stain,

No longer choosing to hide disdain.

Gnashing teeth and spewing spit,

The lower we sink in the hellish pit.

 Brought on ourselves by feverish fit,

The more unwillingly we submit.

Submit perhaps, or just gave in,

Giving up to mankind’s penchant for sin.

Our memories are short and patience thin,

Living a destiny that’s already been.

On fear of death, our egos flow,

No pain or suffering we’ll forgo.

Commonsense be damn as we do show,

We’re circling the drain for all we know.

I fear dear friend our wounds won’t heal,

As those before, our fates been sealed.

We never learn what histories revealed,

Instead, we embrace our end with zeal.

Sorrow Fills My Soul

Sorrow fills my soul looking out to the in that is black and distasteful

Choking my essence and making me hateful

I bleed trying to quench the pain, but the pain won’t let go

What a fool I am and what a fool I show

No one knows it’s me because I keep it hidden in the deepest recesses

But God knows the heart that to myself confesses

I do nothing, justifying my wrongs just to live day-to-day

Though my conscience constantly gets in the way

What is it I’m after, what is it that I want as dollar after dollar goes to hell

Get rich quick, strike the jackpot, revel in the winning bell

It’s a fools dream, one that seldom comes true

A realization for no one, but the fortunate few

I swear each day after to turn down a different road, vowing to refrain

Sadly each let down, self-inflicted causes immeasurable pain

I don’t know if I can do this myself, do it all alone

When temptation knocks at every door where my weakness has shown

I’m scared, terrified at my persistent weakness

What demon has possessed me engraining this bleakness

Perhaps it’s me, my mind, and nothing more is to blame

Perhaps it’s just a weakness of character or a lifetime of shame

Maybe it’s just an excuse for a depressive mind

Or maybe it is really nothing of the kind

If help reaches out it to throw me a life-line

Gladly I’d take it as a telling sign

That nothing that happens cannot be cured

With love and kindness and strength that is assured

I put my life in the hands of a power higher than myself

Struggling to put my ego on a shelf

What else am I to do, but try and try again to be a better man

Doing what I know is right and doing what I can

~~ Dominic DiFrancesco ~~

The Christmas Light Slowly Dims

The Christmas light slowly dims

     As joy’s illusions fade

Back to a world cold and grim

     A fond goodnight it bade

Try as I might to keep the spirit

     Darkness bolts the door

Come Holy Night each year I fear it

     My psyches ghostly whore

This sadness black torments my soul

     On every Christmas eve

I beg for mercy God fill this hole

     So my heart no longer grieves

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

50 Word Story – Cardboard Roof

The cardboard roof does little to keep the icy rain and bone-chilling cold from compounding his pain.  Looked upon as a piece of worthless trash, he is invisible to passersby..

Perhaps if they realized they were just one paycheck away from his Hell, they’d offer him a bit more sympathy.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

It Speaks In Tongues

It speaks in tongues,

Jagged and cruel to the ear.

 

It gnaws at human flesh, my flesh

Carnivorous and cannibalistic,

Leaving scars deep within.

 

These scars, the blood I let is unseen,

Yet the tears are real,

Signs of the pain I’ve embraced

As a lover to his love.

 

O’ the excuses I’ve made

While revelling in my torment.

I’ve chosen not to go on,

To anchor my future to the misery of the past.

You would not have wanted this, I know,

But weakness and loss are all that I have left.

I understand them,

I take comfort in their constancy

Though they devastate my soul.

 

To love again would be far more than I could bear,

To smile at the new day would dilute me,

Partaking of joy in the joy of another would sacrifice me!

I am unworthy of romance, of passion

With a heart melancholy and corrupted..

 

Of this I am certain,

Fate whether by God or my own hand

Will haunt me until the day that I die.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Muddled Thoughts And Sour Mood

Muddled thoughts and sour mood,

So unlike for me to brood.

.

What and why I do not know,

Whilst I wait for it to go.

.

Twist of fate or slight of hand,

Either one would sure be grand.

.

To cheer me up and make me smile

Releasing me from this cursed trial.

.

But alas today it seems to be

Another day without much glee.

.

Clouds of pitch and torrential rains

Dampen my spirit and fog my brain.

.

Sure I know this too shall pass

For gloom this dark cannot last.

.

Until then most sullen I’ll be,

Awaiting the key that sets me free.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Stench Of Urine

Stench of urine,

Cardboard shacks,

Shopping carts,

Tattered clothes,

Hand-me-downs from the dumpster I suppose.

 

Rummaging through waste baskets,

Feasting on tainted food scraps,

Hiding in the shadows,

Sleeping on steam grates,

Misused,

Abused,

Something less than human.

 

Left for dead in the cold,

Filth in the form of flesh and blood,

But have you ever looked into their eyes,

Heard their hearts beat,

Seen them cry,

Gasp for their final breath?

 

I’m sure you haven’t

As you stepped over their broken bodies,

Avoiding them like the plague,

Chuckling at their despair,

On your way to your comfortable life.

 

Can’t you take a moment to lend a hand,

A little food,

A little shelter,

A bit of cash,

Instead of treating them like lepers,

Feeding off teets of the man..

 

You don’t know them,

You don’t know their stories,

Their hardships,

Their tragedies,

But you should…

They are our brothers and sister after all.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

So Much To Say

So much to say, though

How…is what eludes my grasp.

Fingers contorted,

My mind drowning in chaos,

The words scream fighting for air.

But alas they choke,

Dying at the hand of a

Tormented poet.

What fate beholds this tortured

Soul. Only God above knows.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~