When Black Is The Color Du Jour Poem by David Whalen

When Black Is The Color Du Jour



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There’s a time in all men’s lives
A time when the soul
Can do no more
…Than cry…

When scars are graven
In script broadly writ
On the heart and deep…
within the eye

When the sky is barren
Of Sunlight and Angels
The days become
Grey and dust dry

The very spirit is smothered
By blanket of despair
Exposed and uncovered
Like an ill hidden lie

Yet…In the season’s of time
There returns reason and rhyme
The darkness retreats
…Church bells chime…

The once hard heart softens
The spirit revives
Both sunlight and Angels
Shine down on our lives

And the soul? …It returns
From that black hole
Where it hides
A bit tattered and torn
More weathered and worn
…Yet It survives…
It survives…It survives!

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Sunday, August 16, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: depression
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kumarmani Mahakul 16 August 2015

Oh! very fantastic composition. Deeply envisioned and depicted. Thanks for sharing. .....10

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David Whalen

David Whalen

Covington Kentucky
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