End of the Dream for d’Verse

Can’t pick up rocks no more

’cause something’s under there

just a-waiting to suck your blood

and pull out all your hair.


Can’t trust nuttin’ any more

It’s all rotted through

The young’uns won’t never know

how wishes might come true.



About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 83 now.
This entry was posted in American Dream, Betrayal, despair, memories, Powerlessness and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to End of the Dream for d’Verse

  1. Waltermarks says:

    I was just reading The Hobbit the other day. It sounds like something he fought. Hope I don’t see none around here


  2. A might ominous… with an old timey down homey rhythm and tone…


  3. lillian says:

    Love the title and then flowing into the first stanza. Can’t pick up rocks no more…….
    great post! šŸ™‚
    Apologies Nan for the late reading of OLN….just returned from Bermuda to Boston’s fickle spring with nary a crocus or tred bud in sight šŸ˜¦


  4. Grace says:

    Have to be careful with those rotting stuff ~


  5. I like the slight creepiness of this. You just never know what uncovering that rock will find…


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