Comes the Dawn

I’d like to tell you the following is share of a poem, correctly bearing it’s official title, full copy of and proper spelling of author name –

A poem shared with me when I was 17 years of age – that I’m often reminded of as I walk through Life – via a newspaper clipping from Dear Abby column, lost during one of my hurried flights from the terror of a reality I thought was just the place for me to be, and discovered, wasn’t so –

Alas, I cannot promise or vow the below is really true, complete or correct – –

Too many versions, mutations, memories of, spellings of author name exist online and, really,  how much time does one life have to dedicate themselves to proving, once and for all, they really did attempt to share remembered reality and are not just making stuff up?



Comes the Dawn

by Veronica Shoffstall

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,

And you begin to understand that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises.

You begin to accept your defeats
With your head held high and your eyes open,

With the grace of a woman,
Not the grief of a child.

You learn to build your roads
On today because tomorrow’s ground
Is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in midflight.

After a while you learn that even sunshine
Burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate
Your own soul, instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you can really endure,
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth

And you learn and learn … and you learn

With every goodbye you learn.


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