Strife

Hours of hours,

sand goes by.

Grit in the eyes.

The promise of return

was a lie;

nothing but heartache

was the prize.

Tears burn the cheeks

due to broken ties.

No more late nights,

no more secret delights;

only the heart-wrenching

wrought by familiar sites.

Alone, forlorn, with strife—

head stays down;

there is no more reason for life.