Poetry 171: The Glass Hive IV – The Glass Ceiling

Life has many points
And peaks of highs and lows
But it usually starts
With a loud,  thunderous crow

From a singular moment
Sparks a series of hopes
Of never-ending folk tales
Of fantasies and misanthropes

Then life evolves so suddenly
The boy grows into a man
Fantasies become far from reality
And fewer than grains of sand

Smiles diminish
Hope becomes blurred
And, soon, a dark shadow
Casts its net unabashed, unfurled

What was once an easy feat
Has become a huge chore
A mountain has to be climbed
So steep, one can’t help but to abhor

Will the peak be reached in time?
Will the clouds clear what is hazy
And gently show the sun’s sparkling rays
And allow one’s eyes to see some honey?


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