Echoes of Grandeur

By Michael Tronnolone, for Rosemary and Time

 
 
I thought, once, that I was dreaming,
now I see that child screaming.
Grandeur was what I was feeling,
but it seems it's irredeeming.


Grandeur was what I was feeling,
now it seems I’m back to dreaming.


I closed that chapter.
Brand new life.
There’s something about coffee I can’t get used to.
The taste is bitter and it ruins anything it’s a part of.
How dare anyone mix it with chocolate.
The dichotomy of sweet and bitter should be reserved only for accidents.
How anyone derives pleasure from it astonishes me.

Grandeur was what I was feeling,
now it seems I’m back to dreaming.


Perspective matters.
A puppy to one may be a wolf to another.
Predator to one may be prey to another.
Perhaps I was mistaken.
Perhaps he was just a puppy, howling at the moon
because it’s big and bright and doesn’t fit in with the uniform night sky.

Grandeur was what I was feeling,
now it seems I’m back to dreaming.


Arrogance defined my past.
Arrogance shrouded in ignorance.
Arrogance unfounded.
And of course I would have been better if I’d have known what I was doing but I was blind to my actions.
Blind to the feelings and egos of others.
Blind to the consequences of tomorrow.

Grandeur was what I was feeling,
now it seems I’m back to dreaming.


Ignorance is only bliss for as long as you’re asleep.
Hindsight is 20-20, so I guess I’ll see you next year.
Nostalgia’s not what it used to be
and I reckon this might be why.

I thought, once, that I was dreaming,
now I see that child screaming.
Grandeur was what I was feeling,
but it seems it's irredeeming.