Wishing (Acrostic) Poem by Butch Decatoria

Wanting, like most a fantasy, is a sinkhole beneath your feet.

It's Icarus befallen, melted with his waxen wings' hubris.

Souls stymied then rots with envy, sows such needful things.

Hope is but a naïve youth casting lures into the night, while

Invictus conquers the long ride with men's devotions…

Never land carousels can never replace heaven, all

Gilded but not gold… words & wishes, echoes of empty halls.