Dust

Against belief, I have not turned to dust,

Not yet.

Those lies are a bust

Nothing but a threat.

It’s not just,

But that’s why it rains,

It’s why hearts rust,

It’s why hearts strain.

There’s little that can be done for lust.

Try as you might,

Run if you must,

Move away, or take flight.

It’s that yearning that makes decisions thrust,

Ignoring emotions that make the most sense;

Like a flower catching a winds’ gust,

Lying pressed against a white fence.

Outweigh greed with trust,

Against everything you’ve been told;

It’s how to live in the upper crust,

But it’s fools gold.