Broken Dreams

I wrote this poem in 2015, during one of the darkest periods of my life. Once again, I had been abusing prescription painkillers, believing that I’d never be free.

The sky opens, rain pours down.
Through streaming tears
I think I see God.
Still, I feel alone, without,
buried deep beneath the
remains of bad decisions.

I am trying, looking
for solutions. No time
for error, no room for emotion.
I grow weary,
unable to overcome
this deep, cold feeling
that I’m on my way out.

Morning comes,
surprised I’m still here.
Oh, how I want to fly; soaring
above failure; somewhere
far over the hills, away from the
stench of my broken dreams
and all this pathetic roadkill.

© 2015 Steven Barto

0 thoughts on “Broken Dreams

  1. Do not die in the winter cold, look through the rain (tears) the moon and the sun has always been shining, it brightens the earth just like the rain waters the plants. Never stop in the midst of the storm, keep the faith, keep going. I am in the storm. Thank you for the poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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