Emptiness

 

 

When the dust had settled

There was nothing to see,

So many such cases nowadays

And for an exorbitant fee.

 

Of planning and effort

Of gigantic proportions,

And the best in the business

Regarding the promotion.

 

Hype and expectation

Anticipating a great time,

Yet another event promising

A one of a kind.

 

But when the dust had settled

There was nothing to see,

Lots of money and effort

Just to disappoint me.

 

It was going to be bigger

And better too,

Far better that any before

Was the majority view.

 

I know you may be thinking

Of a specific event

But regarding this poem

That is not my intent.

 

Rather, I am speaking

Regarding all of life:

Its intervals of fragile peace

And its increasing strife.

 

 

 

The big plans we make

And the money we spend

For the huge disappointments

That attend at the end.

 

The emptiness afterwards,

The thrill having long passed

And left wondering once again,

Why it did not last?

 

In so much of life

Is this overwhelming emptiness,

Coupled with the need

For some genuine rest.

 

The partylike atmosphere

With its oft promise to relieve

Leaves its trusting patrons

With no satisfaction guaranteed.

 

Disappointed and deceived

With short-lived satisfaction

But will without doubt try again;

It’s now an addiction.

 

 

 

After yet another thrill

There is an acute emptiness

And with it an emotional pain

That hinders sweet rest.

 

When the dust had settled

There was nothing to see

The only thing of permanence

Is emptiness and misery.

 

Stewart Russell © September 22, 2020