Heel slip
How mundane the crushing of a dream.
By Conor DarrallPublished 8 months ago • Updated 8 months ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Mihály Köles on Unsplash
Fully expected,
As far as I allow
Expectations to form.
--
So familiar,
A click into
The usual furrows
And the motion,
As eyes scan down
--
So similar
To foreboding.
But without the taste.
--
"Unfortunately..."
--
There's a sweetness,
Nicotinesque.
With a tinge of
Terrified routine.
--
And it's gone,
That dream
I had nurtured.
--
Like a sick bird,
Fallen from
Any nest
Of logic or hope.
--
No mourning,
No wake.
--
Just, of course.
--
No surprise,
No outrage
Or ill-used feelings.
--
Only a grim confirmation
Of what
I already knew.
--
-
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About the Creator
Conor Darrall
Short-stories, poetry and random scribblings. Irish traditional musician, sword student, draoi and strange egg. Bipolar/ADD. Currently querying my novel 'The Forgotten 47' - @conordarrall / www.conordarrall.com
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