A sonnetina (like a sonnet but only 10 lines) in response to MLMM’s Saturday Mix: Opposing Forces. I have actually written a few poems in different forms on this same topic, reusing the first one or two lines multiple times. I find that entertaining. 🙂
What’s all else worth, if greatest dream is dead?
Even with wealth, one craves and hungers still,
Without a way to find his daily bread:
Having nothing to live for kills the will.
A quiet heartbeat yet the pain is loud:
A frozen passion nevermore to melt,
Humbling the artist’s eyes that had been proud
Of such great work — that joy no longer felt.
What use is popularity and cash,
If one’s reason for being’s burned to ash?
revivedwriter 
Such poignancy in your poem. Wonderful
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