MELANCHOLY

MELANCHOLY

My dream was lost the day you said goodbye,
And with a sad and desperate fanfare my hopes fell from the sky.

Alone I wandered aimlessly, drenched in melancholy,
And the night fell down upon me in all its wayward folly.

Melancholy as the owl who hoots alone amidst the pines,
Melancholy as the poet who can’t keep track of his bitter rhymes.

Sad as a monk in his solitary chamber
That echoes with heartbreak and trembles with danger,

Remiss like a singer who’s forgotten the tune,
Forsaken like the bloodhound who bays at the moon.

My dreams were shattered like frail plates of glass,
Like a flash from your heart my visage was cast.

And I heard not the warnings and saw not the signs
Of our love affair’s quick and relentless decline.

In solitude I stand, awash in melancholy,
As the Christmas bells ring ‘neath the ivy and holly.
Melancholy as the elf who cannot make his toy,
Melancholy as the sad and disenchanted boy.

The holiday it passes, like just another moonless season
And I am bitter as the wind that blows without a rhyme or reason.

My dream it died a painful death, alone upon the barren plain.
Melancholy falls the night, a solemn avalanche of rain.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED