Forget-Me-Not Wishful Thinking

Forget-me-not seems wishing well
of wishful thinking, all eyes dim,
leaves fall, the seasons pass, red rim
sees eyes once bright before time fell
on expectations bright to tell
all's wishful-thinking. To the brim
drink deep life's draught, the odds are slim
that age page fills for fame's brief spell
soon sinks, leaves only heads to swell,
oblivion to all is grim
fate shared, despair for harlot, prim.
Life's page - joy, rage, - may living hell
appear to some, to others dream
phantasmogorical false gleam.

(18 August 2011)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!