Poetry

My Saving Grace

Guest contribution by Michael Meshreky

Dreams dwindle till they perish,

Faced with pressures of the days.

Losing the purpose I dared not cherish,

And gone are all my destined ways.

 

Asked to hold while I did not,

persevere whilst I fall short.

Asked to freshen my life’s rot.

to break down that terrible fort.

 

Despite my setbacks they endure,

even though my faith may crumble.

To my insomnia, the anticipated cure;

the sequence upon which life stumbles.

 

Our unity could be my saving grace,

the meeting I’m always longing for.

Against time, a never-ending race,

but once I’m there, I ask no more.

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