MEMBERS ONLY: Go Screw!

Alas, poor heart, why beat’st thou thus in vain,
As though thy sound could summon bygone hours?
The past lies mute, a tomb no tear may wake,
And yet I knock, a fool at memory’s gate.
Hope doth still dress itself in tatter’d faith,
And bids me trust tomorrow’s borrowed light.
If I must walk, then let me walk awake,
Not dreaming crowns where only dust may sit.