There’s a set
Of crystal stairs
Upon which my feet
Seem weary
When ascending dreams
Translucent
Like this wish
To be more heard

Gaining fame
By eyes who pry
Before morning
Lays its silence

Through that gentle sun’s
Disruption
Where each daylight
Sees me fall

While I climb
These spoken steps

Playing fate
Without much effort

Treading glass
Above these dangers
Through ambitions
Well-preserved

Letting hearsay
Become truth

Spreading rumors
Weaving gospel

Growing lives
Beyond old whispers
Wayward souls
Could only tell

Proving meaning
Tears new cracks
Over lengths
Once nearly shattered
From defeat
At seeking notice
Or existing
Past our deaths,

Failing heaven
Frail as mirrors
In defeat
No poet utters

Daring words
So uninspired

Only plunging down
Has depth.

• J. Pigno