How the dream dies

ILLUSION

Envelopes lie unopened on the table
That runs the length of the hall.
Logos on the outside
Reveal the utilities call.
No greeting cards contained within,
Nor cheery offers of a prize
Sharp demands in angry prose
Are all that inside lies.
No need to open the missives
When denial provides some comfort
And optimism offers advice; like a friend
Naively not wishing to inflict hurt.
Failure to invoke the plain reality
The demoralising truth unvarnished,
Preserves the dubious veneer that leaves
Your precocious esteem untarnished.

It was all so good back then:
Two cars in the drive, shiny and new,
Holidays three times a year,
The parties every month you threw.
Bling of course was the wrong term for
The little black numbers, so exquisite
The emerald and ruby creations
The discreet salon you used to visit.
This was an envious word, coined
By those who lacked the ability
To match what you could achieve
They dreamt; you made the possible reality.
Why not push the limits of his expense account
To provide personal gratification;
A small reward for the ruthless toil
Extracted from him by the corporation.
Now by order of a cold calculation
Made three thousand miles away:
His career dismantled, talents unwanted,
Responsibilities evaporated, all gone astray.
The corporate God provides the opportunities
Allows you construct your invincibility illusion
Then scatters as dust the castle of sand
That morphed into your sad delusion