They say it’s darkest before the dawn
And it’s now so black I can’t see,
So when is the sun due to come up
And bring back some brightness to me?
There’s nothing, dear friend, that’s more foolish
That saying things can’t get much worse,
For a thought like that is exactly the thing
That comes with its own built-in curse.
You should never anticipate roses
Because you are walking through thorns.
You may not discern the devil
Who’s nearby, but disguising his horns;
So always be wary and careful
Especially when things go down hill;
And don’t think that things can’t get worse
Or I assure you they certainly will.
Read other articles, stories and poems by Edwina Williams and other popular authors at: www.trovemagazine.com