The Wreck

The dreams we treasure deepest 
We do not speak aloud; 
And sometimes, we don't even know 
We have them -- 

Until we see ourselves enact 
Some sort of non-auditioned script, 
And feel some inmost self 
Makes our decisions. 

And older people say, you're young.
You'll understand, when you get old.
But when we're old, we 
Leave it to the silence -- 

For hearts go where they will, and we 
Are dragged along behind them, 
To wake up to the wreck that's 
All around us

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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