Close Your Tired Eyes

Close your tired eyes

Quiet your exhausted mind

A surprise awaits

He has been there all along

Since the very day of birth

Too busy to see

He sat back and simply watched

Waiting for the time

Now in your silence he speaks

Hello my child…I Am God

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Casual Observers

Are we not all but casual observers

This game…though not such a game that governments play

What is it they do not tell us in the name of our own good

Who are they to decide what serves us best

Are these not our lives, our futures, our hopes, our dreams

They toy with these for their own folly

For the sake of national pride we label others as evil

Without looking within at our own flaws

Puffing chests, bellicose, with an arrogance befitting fools

Answering tit-for-tat with ever greater threats of destruction

This chain of ceaseless violence, when will it subside

Years of pain, years of suffering have taken their toll on this weary nation

I ask, what have we won, show me…show us

Do we need another war, more bloodshed of the innocent,

Further sacrifices by our brave men and women delivered as pawns

for subversive economic gain

Isn’t it time to seek peace after so much loss

And break this cycle of violence.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

A Decade Of War

A decade of war

Life draining on this nation

When will it all end

Our citizens sacrificed

Precious resources squandered

To what victory

How do we define success

Against painful loss

Our wars produce no winners

Without a clear enemy

All gains will revert

When finally we depart

Chaos ensuing

As is always the result

In the absence of brute force

When ideals are forced

Democracy imposed

Only breeds contempt

When masses are unprepared

For freedoms sacrifices


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


Bleary Eyed

Bleary eyed,

Bloodshot from too little sleep,

I glare with intent into a cup of black coffee.


A shimmering pool of obsidian,

Strong, deep and steaming,

Aroma bitter, bordering on unpleasant.


A look in the mirror bares a distasteful reality,

I look old, I feel old,

Much older than my years.


Bags under the eyes black and purple,

Fifteen rounds of life,

Beating the senses until they are bruised.


Tired beyond belief,

I should not be,

Is not an hour of uninterrupted sleep enough?


Medication seems my only respite,

No dreams, at least none bound to my weary memory,

Just sleep, black, uneventful sleep.


Tomorrow I will wake,

Groggy from the self-induced coma,

A useless splash of cold water to prod arousal.


Another cup of bad coffee,

Strong, black and bitter,

Maybe today I should just stay in bed.

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~