Return

A return to form
aspires to erase
all past pain,
a cruel phase.

Lysander spoke true;
this course never did run smooth.

Surface

     Words weighted,
          looks layered;
 a world of meaning
 in a dip of the head
 or a slip of the eyes
away from the cause
 of feeling and being
           so
            incredibly...
     
                 
fine.

A fleeting glance of esperance

A fleeting glance of esperance 
on a mother's face
until no, all hopes are dashed,
like Lady Macbeth's baby brains.

Stark contrast

Night and day.
Two unsustainable wastes.
One - hard-working, tireless,
exhaustion, no peace, low grades.
The other, apathy personified,
gifted perhaps, but none of the drive.
One - a high-flier, determination
goes far.
The other, aims lower
so lowest expectations
are never
unrealised.