Sadness
We have a great deal of sadness
Pent-up inside our fragile selves
Bordering at times on madness-
unhealthy in and of itself.
You’d think we’d learn to deal with it.
No! We shelve it for another day
and indubitably admit
its return in myriad ways.
Sorrow assumes many faces
Far too many to cope with each
Leaving behind tiny traces
of memories and self reproach.
Human minds are the rub, the source.
Their forlorn heart’s, the driving force.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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