Poetry – Sucked Dry

Sucked Dry

No more words or reason,

No love or hope,

No friendship or dreams,

To sully the day

With false expectations.

Now reality must rule

And bathe the world in grey –

For colour has fled

And joy has been vanquished

So that we are doomed to live

In among the dregs.

Empty as the void,

As the vacuum of space,

Sucked dry of humour

And devoid of wishes

With which to kindle any flame.

Opher 10.7.2016

Sucked Dry

Once life was full of hope and wonder, laughter and friendship; it was so easy.

There were sufficient discoveries for a thousand life-times. It burned.

Now I am much older than that and my idealistic naivety has been replaced by the mundanity of life. Lately I have felt the energies dip on every front, the person I am change, and my dreams have become tainted with too much reality.

All my words haunt me with their imperfections. My hopes are sullied. I have had to step back and take a good hard look at where I am in life – I am not the cheerful, optimistic individual I have always felt myself to be. I am no longer optimistic or full of self-confidence.  My ideals look like silly dreams.

So I wrote it in this poem. Perhaps it is just the Brexit Blues and I will re-emerge in full optimistic mode? Or perhaps the Brexit vote awakened me to the futility of fighting the global monster that corporate society has become? I have to find a way of saying goodbye to the gorillas, chimps, elephants and rhinos, the rainforests and wilderness, and get used to a future of war, inequality and greed, where exploitation is the currency and profit the only consideration?

To turn my back on it all and feather my own nest?

I despair.

Leave a Reply