Burnt Out Poem by David Harris
Burnt Out
I sit alone and ponder,
the cards life has dealt.
The dreams that were dismissed,
for the sake of quelling nightmares.
A writer I am says I.
Who recognises the fact?
With cigarette between my fingers,
a hand of solitaire in front of me.
The chances of winning,
decrease with time.
Reluctance is a virtue,
which I no longer posses.
My cigarette is almost finished;
the hand in front of me has fled.
My depression is getting stronger.
What will awake my sleeping mind?
The sun outside might shine,
but the inner light is almost burnt out.
1 June 1981
Thanks for the reminder that it's all about 'Pick Yourself Up and Start All Over Again...' marci.m. :)
Written very well David, reminds me of times well past pondering my future. Everybody makes mistakes and we only become failures when we fail to try again. I like this one. Bob
Written very well David, reminds me of times well past pondering my future. Everybody makes mistakes and we only become failures when we fail to try again. I like this one. Bob
Please look in that hand again, the cards may have turned to something more..a pen and one that writes so honestly and straight from the heart, I really am liking your style David Love duncan X
Brunt out is a beautiful poem that insist me and I added 10 to it.
I too am glad this is from the past.......but obviously it has made you a much stronger person for it.....and now you help others through their difficult times now...don't you Dr. Dave: O) .......OH....I think i may have stumbled onto another hat......Dr. Dave....he doesn't make house calls....but he's always there when you need him to cheer you up....with his wonderful words: O)
a great piece david. life sometimes gives us what we want, then other times it just pushes us away from doing or going where we want to go. a wonderful poem.
Oh David, I'am so glad this poem was in the past, of course it was for now what we see is a 'NEW' bright shining light. Through your words and wisdom, through a bright radiant light lives a poet of deep emotion and infinite sight. Keep these wondrous treasures coming David, we are blessed to have you on this site.-----Melvina---
I had to read this poem based on your title.You created a Great title that pulled this whole piece together nicely.I feel your pain and the disallusion we all suffer from time to time...hopefully not too often-but it happens. Great imagery.I could smell the smoke of the cigarette between your fingers and I could sence that the urgency of the dreams you once had were dismissed. A Horrible place to be...glad it was written years ago. Thanx for sharing from your heart. =Shelley=
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/7/2025 3:15:30 AM # 1.0.0
David, I love the depth of this poem...Yes! 10! I have had those moments sans the smokes...playing Frank Sinatra always helped...and my God-mother always reminded me that 'every knock down is a boost up! ' Dorothy