The Reluctant Realist
Before she grew, before she knew
That lies were rife and truths were few;
Before she heard hope’s helpless screams
Her ardent heart was hot with dreams;
Before her Eden burned to dust
Her floral core was lush with trust.
Beyond her haze of dizzy days
Where golden rays out-blazed the greys;
Beyond her petaled path of cheer
Where words were warm and deeds sincere;
Beyond her sphere of ever green
She saw a view she’d never seen:
A stark expanse of common sense –
No dross, no gloss, no recompense.
Susan Jarvis Bryant
