A Feat Of Feast... Poem by sadick tonde

In between sighs...
I stretch to touch nigh..
..hurried breeze caress my hands
as thrifty drops does barren lands

Mouth then a word and speak it not,
for the times in we live takes thoughts in tots.
Give a mellowed smile then I say,
if nothing sane came of sunny great days.

Hopeless...

Is what now you call a broken dream..
The rubbished heaps astrewn a stream.
In mottled words let it so then be lettered:
That men squandered chance and plundered...

..stole from in-between lips desired praise,
and sought to replace it with bittered maze
..hid spoils beneath shadowed shades,
and accounted not for their pilfering ways...

Senseless...

Is how now I lie..naked..bare..tired
..to have hoped a hope lost..gone..shattered
Spawned years aloft bloated lies..battered
..opened my soul up to darkened skies..tattered

So then on me pour tainted rain,
As I bear now the fruits of hope in vain.
Disappointed much to say the least?
I wait still to see that feat of feast.