Discomposure
By Kenneth Cabrieto

                    Never wanted to fall again,
                    But I did
                    And I landed on my face.

                    Quips of excitement,
                    Quickly became
                    Despondent specks of endearment.

                    All the while
                    What was inside,
                    Quietly seeped outward.

                    Amassed in pollution
                    And noise
                    The end result, confusion.

                    Robust expectations
                    Go unmet.
                    The tyrant that is reality returns.

                    The idea of hope means nothing.
                    Not to one
                    Who has fallen hard.

                    -Ocotber 23rd, 2002