With daybreak, I cry another tear.
Yet it is like all the tears I’ve cried before.
It makes no difference
This is still a desert
In which I struggle to exist.
This is still a dust bowl
That stretches from dawn to bitter dusk.
So I journey on until the day ends
And the sun starts to set.
When my heart is broken anew,
Because I’m still waiting for you.
© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Made of sticks and stones 