Old words, same words, time dissolved

The distraction of pissing away life

Photo by Kasper Rasmussen on Unsplash

Was it the rain or diffuse tumbling
rivulets that burst down,
distacted escaping dreams,
tiny convicts of time as
shame chased them down the pane
pain
paying?

Is that the cost of dreams washed
in my rivers of expectation
my waves of expectation,
breaths of resignation?

Photo by Sebastian Herrmann on Unsplash

Finding withered notes in a forgotten case,
yellowed pages of hope
wrinkled like intentions lost
aims, promises, ardent oaths
rustle like seeping commitments, shriveled.

Must we flay ourselves with
memories of good intentions discarded?

Haunting disappointment like grains
of sand in an hour glass,
grains of dreams in a hope glass,
sifting, pissing into a pathetic pile,
an insubstantial mound of ‘might have been.’