Venom in wretched hearts doth flow,
Poisoning the mind, the body, the soul.
Sinking yellowed claws, they refuse to let go,
Dragging us down into blackened hole.
Choosing to wallow in pity, our woeful state,
Winding path we refuse to veer.
Preferring to traipse the same abject fate,
As if it were something we held so dear.
Nay–this is not how we were created,
With sorrow and fear to guide our way.
This truth could never be overstated,
If we change with the dawn of another day.
Pessimism serves none, but the weakest of spirit,
But optimism doth breed success to those that will hear it.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~