Violence Begets Violence

Violence begets violence,

Through blood and terrible pain.

Hatred begets hatred,

With every fallen name.


Actions in this moment

Last for generations to come

Long after reasons forgotten

Our passions still succumb.


Perpetuating animus

At the cost of innocent life

Caught in the crossfire

Stainless victims of this strife.


Given a moment of thought

Or a look in a childs face.

Would we be so rash

To kill instead of embrace.


Perhaps someday great wisdom

Will seed the hearts of man.

To recognize the evil

Exacted since time began.


The hope for lasting peace

Lives in my fondest dreams.

Though unlikely in this lifetime

Nor ever so it seems.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Echoes Of Laughter

Echoes of laughter

Smiling faces of children

–Innocence at play

Sights, sounds of another time

When being a kid was cool

The cries of hunger

Tears streaming down sunken cheeks

–Modern travesty

While the rich still get richer

Children starve for no reason


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Cry Of Somber Horn Sounds

Cry of somber horn sounds,

Cloaked in fogs muted cape;

Lonesome and lonely as others answer not.

With greatest of care she lumbers on,

Waning on autumn wind, she cries,

Longing for her groom so long ago parted.

Drawn and weary her soul aches

In hopes with lover soon united.

He waits…

On rocky shore, he waits,

To hear the joyous cry of his bridegroom,

Against cold and crashing spray–he waits

For her voice, it never comes,

He wales…

For his love–he is forlorn.

She is gone.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Shattered Glass

Shattered glass sparkles as crystal under foot.

In anger, words were elusive,

You replied with an object of convenience.

O’ the lovely bouquet;

Homeless, evicted from it’s vase residence,

A chaotic arrangement on the hardwood.

Love morphed to hate,

Expressed in oh so funny ways.

Drenched in floral water

Fragrant as your estrogen tears,

Laying prone to avoid concussion.

What brought us here?

Pictures…smile infused speak of happier times,

Posing cheek-to-cheek, hand-in-hand,

No angry words, no words at all,

Communication via telepathy.

Speaking became a flint

Sparking…fueling fire, blue, white hot.

Singeing flesh and heart,

Blistering physically and emotionally

Until silence became a friend.

There is no reconciliation

No bandage or splint to fix what’s broken.

Like the vase, Irreparably shattered,

Love is left in a million pieces.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~