Like placid lakes
With waters still
Lonely hearts
With sorrow fill
And upon
The evening sky’s frill
Promise estranged from
The Day’s drill
In weary eyes where
Tears Distill
And clouds of gloom
Wander at will
And birthing future
That past might kill
Desire and contentment stare
In a standstill
Where sweat and blood
Have come to spill
And tired senses
Crave a skill
That somehow will
Take them over the hill
Ti’s here where the mind
Can instill
A hope to grind
Through soul’s mill
The wind blowing
In an eerie shrill
The Moon watching now
Rested on my window sill