THIS WON’T LAST
H. W. Bryce
For Deborah Klein-DeJong’s photo-painting
This Won’t Last
The acid rain of vitriolic speech
Falls down upon us, one and each,
The angry fist now pummels cheek,
It often picks upon the weak,
But pain can be endured, I teach,
And peace will come because you reach
And all the pain will go, although perhaps not fast,
Because this acid rain can never stay. This Won’t Last!
These troubles down on Trouble Street,
Where depression and despair both meet,
Where drugs and smokes and fear entertain
At the crossroads of Lost Avenue and Main,
Where Happiness and Hope are ever banned,
And every plan that was ever planned
Is lost and never to be found…but hark!
A distant sound comes near, saying never fear, This Won’t Last!
This won’t last, this fear, this being lost,
Life will endure, no matter what the cost,
We will return, we still will thrive
And we will live life full alive
Because these troubles cannot last.
We’ll relegate them to the grave called Past.
I know because the die is cast.
The gods in heaven say, This Won’t Last!
The faded rose of hope will die inside the falling rain,
But storms do blow themselves right out, the gain
Is in the calm that follows on, for hope and will will rise,
Because this won’t last, no trouble can, life can and will surprise.
For all of those in this dystopian disease,
Living in the cloak of deep despair with never any ease
But for the carers, this won’t last, and peace at last
For the sufferers, for their seat in Heaven’s cast
In gold and set before their God, because, This Won’t Last!
